A Place For Us
by T.O. Cole
Summary: "This is for real," she had once said. They had no idea how right she was. [LDD]
1. Introduction

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Bridge to Terabithia**_**, in any shape, form, or fashion. That honor belongs to Katherine Paterson, Walden Media, and the Walt Disney Studios. I am simply a grateful fan of a beautiful story.**

**An Introduction from the Author**

**Feel free to skip this note and head on to the first chapter, if you wish. I fear this introduction will sound more like rambling than anything else, and it may turn out to be a bit uncomfortable for some. I don't Bible-thump, but I am obvious about my Christianity. The introduction is quite long, too, longer than I thought it would be when I started it. I wouldn't mind if you scroll on down to the "Next Chapter" button and press it.**

**But I still felt a real need to write down my thoughts and feelings before jumping into the story proper, so I hope you guys and gals don't begrudge me too much for it. **

**My name is T.O. Cole. I am not a new member of Fanfictiondotnet, far from it. My profile says I have been a member of since 2006, but I started writing here under an earlier account in 2003. I'm a bit of a graybeard.**

**But I am a greenhorn in this section. I am not a newcomer to **_**Bridge to Terabithia**_**, though. The novel (and more recently, the 2007 film) has been very near and dear to my heart for some time now. Quite simply, I treasure **_**Bridge to Terabithia**_**, and am so grateful Katherine Paterson wrote it.**

**I know Paterson wrote the novel to help her son, David, after the death of his best friend Lisa Hill. But it helped me, too. It helped me come to grips with the death of a very close friend of mine.**

**And now for a journey back in time.**

**I first read **_**Bridge to Terabithia **_**back in 1996. I was in 5****th**** Grade, and the novel was required reading. I read it, and though I thought it was a good book, it did not touch me the way it did years and years later.**

**So let's flash forward…**

**In 2004, I graduated high school and went on to college. I had a three-day orientation beforehand, and I was incredibly nervous. I tend to be horribly shy and quiet when I first meet new people, so I felt awkward and out-of-place amongst all these kids I had never met before. **

**But then I met an angel. Not that I thought of him as that at first. Goodness no! He was just Jeff to me. Thinking of him as an angel came much later.**

**In each orientation group, there were two older students who helped introduce the incoming freshmen to college life. Jeff was one of these students and he had been assigned to my group. **

**And, gosh, am I glad he was. **

**Jeff was very, very kind to me. He included me in conversations, pulled me into others. He made me feel comfortable and at home, putting me at ease with his jokes and easygoing demeanor. He never acted as if it were a chore to help me. He just did, even though he didn't have to. It was because of him that I began to think I just might enjoy college. He was my first new friend.**

**I got to see a lot more of Jeff in the days that followed, too. I ran cross-country, and he was something of an assistant-coach on the team. He helped keep times, traveled with us to meets (he drove the girls' van, and boy did we have adventures, including one involving a suicidal deer) and cheered us on, stuff like that. I saw him just about every day except Sunday, and each time was more of the same. Smiles, jokes, conversations, everything.**

**He was a wonderful guy, and I came to love him. Not romantically, but the kind of love you have for a very close friend, a friend you can always count on. Because I knew I could count on Jeff. I never forgot how good he had been to me that first day, and how good he continued to be after orientation was over and done.**

**But then in February 2006, Jeff had an accident. He was hiking in the mountains and fell. **

**He died. **

**I found out at a basketball game. I was watching my younger sisters play in a tournament, and my dad told me he had heard Jeff had passed away.**

**I was shell-shocked, and didn't say a word for the rest of the night. I remember my sisters asking why I was so quiet, and my parents having to explain to them that one of my friends had died.**

**I didn't believe Dad at first. The thought that Jeff—my good friend Jeff, the guy who went out of his way to help me, who kept my running times and started a fundraiser to help with the aftermath of Katrina—had died was inconceivable. It was impossible. It had to be a mistake. It had to be.**

**But it wasn't.**

**The truth was all too plain during the next few days. Jeff had been a popular guy at my college. His death left a dark cloud over the campus for days and days afterwards. Everyone was affected, not just my stunned cross-country team. His friends helped set up a memorial service (another friend of mine on the team also put together a video, commemorating Jeff's life) in the auditorium, and everyone attended. It was a packed house.**

**I went to his funeral, as did about half the school, it seemed, if not more. I was one of the few who got to come inside the church, to be with the family, during the service. I don't cry much, never have. But when they opened the casket, and I saw Jeff—my Jeff—I broke down and sobbed. It hit me really hard then, harder than it ever had before, that he was gone. That he wasn't coming back. **

**I do not think I have ever cried so hard, before or since.**

**I hurt for a long time. Not just because my friend had died, though that was hard enough to deal with. No. I was sick with guilt, too. I had never thanked him for being my friend, for reaching out to me when he did, for making me feel at home when I was so nervous and alone. Not once did I ever thank him for being a beautiful friend, a real blessing to me.**

**And now he was gone, and I would never have a chance to say any of those things. **

**I can't say I was depressed. But I did feel rotten about it for a long, long time. I wished again and again I could have one moment, just one, so I could thank him, tell him I had loved him, that I was sorry I hadn't told him sooner. I carried that lingering guilt with me for years after Jeff's death.**

**Late in 2009, I was mired in graduate studies, trying to earn an M.A. in English. I took a Children's Literature class, and one of the books I had to read was **_**Bridge to Terabithia**_**. I remembered the story from all those years ago, but I still had no idea what I was getting myself into.**

**I read it, and I fell in love. I was captured by the story, touched so very, very deeply by the friendship between the two kids, and actually cried in the end. I even wrote my final paper for the seminar on Jess and Leslie's relationship (as anima and animus), and I still think it was the best paper I have ever written for school. I bragged about the book, too, so much so that my parents got me the Newbery Library hardback edition for Christmas. **

**My guilt about Jeff began to fade away. **

**It took me a while to realize just why that was. I'm slow on the uptake with a lot of things, so God has to bang me on the head a few times to catch my attention. I think re-reading the novel a couple of years later, as well as finally watching the 2007 film version (I fell in love with it, too), helped in that regard. But I eventually understood, and it was because of this passage in particular. **

_He thought about it all day, how before Leslie came, he had been a nothing—a stupid, weird little kid who drew funny pictures and chased around a cow field trying to act big—trying to hide a whole mob of foolish little fears running riot inside his gut._

_It was Leslie who had taken him from the cow pasture into Terabithia and turned him into a king. He had thought that was it. Wasn't king the best you could be? Now it occurred to him that perhaps Terabithia was like a castle where you came to be knighted. After you stayed a while and grew strong you had to move on. For hadn't Leslie, even in Terabithia, tried to push back the walls of his mind and make him see beyond to the shining world—huge and terrible and beautiful and very fragile? (Handle with care—everything—even the predators)._

_**Now it was time for him to move out. She wasn't there, so he must go on for the both of them. It was up to him to pay back to the world in beauty and caring what Leslie had loaned him in vision and strength.**_

_As for the terrors ahead—for he did not fool himself that they were all behind him—well, you just have to stand up to your fear and not let it squeeze you white. Right, Leslie?_

_Right._

**And there was my answer.**

**Jeff was gone, but not really. He lived on, lived on in me, and through the blessing he had given me. **

**And **_**that**_** was how I could thank him for being my friend. I could pass his blessing along to others. I could be kind and generous, go out of my way to help someone in need, whether they were lost or alone or hurting. I could believe in myself, believe in others. I could do my best to be a blessing myself. I could go on for him, for both of us, for everyone he had touched and continues to touch. **

**And so I have. And goodness knows I have tried my best to do so in all the years since. I know for sure I have stumbled more than a few times along the way. I'm not perfect. But I am going to keep trying.**

**Death and loss are hard. Choosing to move forward from both is hard, too. But love, both past and present, will always prevail. It can carry you, onward and upward, give you comfort and strength, if you allow it to. And we can do such beautiful things when we transcend hardship and heartache, and choose to believe in the beauty found in this world, and in people too.**

**I learned that from **_**Bridge to Terabithia**_**. I love it for many, many reasons (it is my favorite book now), and that is definitely one of them. I really and truly think it was a blessing God sent to me when I needed it most, an answered prayer (and possibly an affirmation too, as it wasn't as if I **_**wasn't**_** helping people before the book opened my eyes) and I thank Him for that. I would love to thank Katherine Paterson, too, one day, for having had the courage and compassion to write the story after her and David and Lisa's tragedy.**

**But until then, if it even happens at all, I will thank her, God, and Jeff by living life with my eyes and heart wide open, and giving and loving generously, always. **

**Because what we do does matter. It matters a lot.**

**Some of you may be wondering what any of this has to do with a fan fic for **_**Bridge to Terabithia**_**. Nothing at all, really, or maybe it has everything to do with it. I just felt compelled to write this (the story, and this introduction as well) one day. As a tribute to the novel and movie I love, as a bit of entertainment for others who love them too, or maybe even as a way to lift up someone out there who needs to be uplifted… **

**Maybe, hopefully, it can be all those things.**

**And that's part of my journey, too: using my writing (which is my passion) to do some good in this life. I hope that does not sound like bragging. That is not my intention. I am my own worst critic when it comes to stories. But it is still my hope to be a blessing, in whatever way, to others, just as Jeff was to me.**

**At the very least, I hope you guys and gals can get a little bit of enjoyment out of this fan fic. Writing is fun, and the extra practice (I work on original stuff, too, when I am not paying the bills as a reporter) does not hurt either. **

**Now back to the actual story…**

**I am calling this fan fic **_**A Place for Us**_**. It is an AU story, and an AU in a number of ways. **

**Confused yet?**

**I am a fantasy writer, first and foremost, so fantasy pops up for real (wow; that is an oxymoron, isn't it?) during this story. There have been several stories where Terabithia turns out to be more than the kids' imagination, and this is one of them. I hope I can be somewhat original about it, though. **

**Never fear. At its core, this fan fic is more about the close relationship between a boy and a girl than it is any of the fantasy elements.**

**Which brings me to my next point…**

_**A Place for Us **_**is both LID and LDD. Leslie did die, as in canon, but thanks to some time travel on Jess's part, she was saved. Think MadTom's wonderful **_**Groundhogs at Terabithia**_** when it comes to the foundation/background (it was partly my inspiration, in fact, and I heartily recommend it) for this idea. This way, Jess keeps the lessons he learned from Leslie and her death (so, so important, as painful as it was and is) and has her with him again too.**

**I mean absolutely no disrespect to Katerine Paterson, David Paterson, or Lisa Hill's memory, or to **_**Bridge to Terabithia**_**,****by writing an LDD story. I would never demand a change be made to the novel or movie, and actually hate it when people say an LDD fic is how the book and/or film SHOULD HAVE ENDED. **

**No, no. The book and movie are perfect as is. This story is an AU for a reason. It is a "what if" story.**

**Because, goodness knows, even though I live on for Jeff and am glad for the lessons he taught me, I still wish he was here with me. It is the same with Leslie in the world of Terabithia. I am sure Jess would want Leslie back, even after he begins to recover and live on after her death.**

**And perhaps that is so in our hearts and minds, too. I know I have read author's notes and reviews on a few of the stories here, where some have admitted to reading LDD fics as a form of comfort after the novel/movie. I have done so myself, to tell the truth. And there are some excellent ones out there that have made me smile.**

**So if my story can do that for you… Awesome!**

**That all sounds horribly complicated, doesn't it? I just wanted to make sure no one thought I was trying to "correct" **_**Bridge to Terabithia**_** by writing an LDD. This story is not a correction. It is a lot of things, but not a correction.**

**I have again gone off on a tangent. Which is no surprise when it comes to me, but still. Let's get back on track, shall we?**

**I probably will not go into too great a detail about the time travel aspect of the LDD-side of things. I am still working out all the little details, to be honest. I may even write it one day. But all you need to know, really, are a few basic things. Leslie is alive, because Jess (a Jess who lived through the canon storyline and was then sent back through time to the day of the accident) saved her. Leslie knows what he went through, because he told her himself, and they have told the same story to at least one person: May Belle.**

**Yes, May Belle is a huge player in this story. I adore the relationship that grows between her and Jess in the novel/movie (I'm a big sister myself), and could not do without it. I doubt Jess would, either, even after all the time traveling. **

**In terms of what is canon (canon to an AU, strange) here, I look to the 2007 film. Not because I prefer it over the novel, but because I think I can write the world of 2007/2008 (dialogue, culture, what have you) better than I can the one of 1977. As others have done, though, I will use novel canon to fill in the gaps in movie canon. **

**There will be Easter eggs too, so keep an eye out. I love throwing out references. Filmography, commentaries from the movie itself… Nothing is safe!**

**I think I have said all that needs to be said. More, probably, and perhaps even too much. But if you have managed to slug through this introduction, I thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoy **_**A Place for Us**_**. **

**And remember. Always, always keep your mind wide open! And keep your hearts open too!**

**T.O. Cole**

**March 2013**


	2. Magic Flowers

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Bridge to Terabithia**_**, in any shape, form, or fashion. That honor belongs to Katherine Paterson, Walden Media, and the Walt Disney Studios. I am simply a grateful fan of a beautiful story.**

**Author's Note: Incidents that take place in Terabithia, where the kids' imagination takes hold and runs wild, will be in italics. These passages are also a trifle more flowery, diction-wise. Action in the real world will be the usual typeface. **

**Time-wise, this takes place about a year after the end of **_**Bridge to Terabithia**_**. **

**According to the Josh Hutcherson/AnnaSophia Robb/Lauren Levine commentary on the film, it was meant to be November when Leslie died. But I am sticking with the novel in that the third act happened just after Easter. **

**Because, hey, jackets can be needed then too, right? **

**OoOoOoO**

**A PLACE FOR US**

**Chapter One: Magic Flowers**

**OoOoOoO**

_Princess May Belle was hard at work in the Royal Gardens, her hands and knees and elbows caked with dirt and mud. A few leaves and twigs even clung to her hair. It had been a messy day of gardening and planting. It had rained the night before, so everything was still a bit moist._

_She was suddenly glad she had left her spring gown in her Royal Chambers. The soil of Terabithia was rich and full of nutrients, especially after a spring shower, but the stains it left behind were difficult to remove. _

_Lady Mary Aarons, the Royal Laundress, would have been upset if she ruined her spring gown._

_Which was why she had changed into older clothes after the journey to God's Temple—_church—_and left behind the gown. It was very pretty, her very own dress and not an inherited one, and she loved wearing it, but it was definitely not meant for gardening._

_Wiping a hand across her sweaty face, Princess May Belle stepped back and examined her work. Rows and rows of purple flowers waved in the breeze. Some were already beginning to awaken and sing. _

_No one else in Terabithia, not even the King and Queen, had her talent for Green Thumb Magic. And purple flowers were her specialty. She could always breathe life into them._

_She smiled. "You look beautiful," she told the budding Magic Flowers. _

"_Thank you, Princess!" their whispery little voices rang. "Thank you so much!"_

_Princess May Belle giggled, pleased, and more of the purple flowers opened up and began to sing and dance for her. She sang with them, her heart soaring, as she fed them with sparkling water from the lands far across the River._

_**Beep-beep-beep!**_

_The sudden sound made Princess May Belle gasp. Her Magic Flowers fell silent, and they shivered. _

_**Beep-beep-beep!**_

"_It's okay. Don't be afraid," she said._

_**Beep-beep-beep! **_

_Princess May Belle turned towards the source of the calls, clutching her gardening trowel. She saw the threat immediately._

_A trio of furry monstrosities had crept out of the bushes and stepped into the Royal Gardens. Bright, shiny pieces of mismatched armor jangled on their bodies, and they bore their yellow, crooked teeth at her as they stalked still closer._

Squogers!_ she thought. _

_But what were squogers doing here? The King and Queen had defeated their master long ago, and she herself had helped drive the nasty beasts and their allies out of the kingdom. A squoger had not been seen in Terabithia for quite some time. Sightings were rare, and happened only on the outskirts of the realm, never close to Terabithian dwellings._

_So how had _three_ squogers managed to sneak past all the guards and magical shields, and so make it into the private Royal Gardens? _

_The largest one slunk closer, its bushy tail slashing at the air, its ratty face lowered. "You're coming with us," it hissed._

"_No, I'm not," said Princess May Belle. _

"_Yes, you are!" the lead squoger said. _

_She shook her head. "I said no. Now go away! I am a princess of Terabithia! You can't make me do anything!"_

_The three monsters growled. They scurried forward and jumped at her, their sharp claws out. _

_But the attacking squogers were quickly smacked back by a whirlwind of feet and fists. They smashed into the ground yards away, tearing up the turf and a few rose bushes. There they lay, dazed and confused and moaning. They were slow to pick themselves up._

_An impossibly tall, blond woman now stood before Princess May Belle. Her blue eyes flashed in the sun. "You will not harm the princess," she said coolly. _

"_Thank you, Captain Super Extreme Barbie," said Princess May Belle, smiling at her savior. "You came just in time."_

"_Shall I run off the little rats?" said Captain Super Extreme Barbie. _

"_Yes, please. They scared my flowers, and they messed up part of the garden."_

_The bodyguard stiffly bowed. "As you wish, princess. They will be sorry they ever came here!" _

_With a ringing cry, Captain Super Extreme Barbie strode forward, ready to beat the three creatures into a million pieces. The squogers beeped in alarm and scrambled away, pushing and shoving their way through the shrubbery, but the bodyguard chased after them. _

_Princess May Belle soon heard the squogers crying "Uncle! Uncle! Uncle!" in the distance, and she and the Magic Flowers laughed and laughed and—_

"_May Belle!"_

"Huh?"

May Belle jolted. The Royal Gardens and the palace faded away, and were replaced by the familiar woods and tree-house across the creek. In one hand she had a secondhand trowel, the other a grubby Barbie doll.

"May Belle!"

That sounded like Jess.

She looked over her shoulder and, sure enough, she soon caught sight of her brother and Leslie. Both were streaked with sweat, their faces ruddy. P.T. bounded alongside them, his tongue lolling and tail wagging.

"Hiya!" she said, smiling. "Didja have a good run?"

Her smile vanished a second later. She had noticed her brother's face.

Jess's brow was furrowed, his jaw set and eyes dark. He looked remarkably like Jack Aarons in a bad, bad mood. "May Belle…" he said slowly, in a low tone of voice that made her wince. She was in for it now! "What're you doing out here? You know you're not supposed to come to Terabithia without me or Leslie!"

May Belle huffed and crossed her arms. "Yeah, well, you guys were taking way too long! You were out running forever and ever!"

She knew they probably kissed and held hands a lot, too, while they were hanging out all by themselves. She wished they would do that stuff on the bus already, and not just at home or in Terabithia. She had bet Alexandra a whole five dollars they would before summer break, and she was running out of time!

"That doesn't matter!" snapped Jess, pulling her out of her thoughts. "You don't come out here alone! Ever! You promised, May Belle!"

May Belle bit her lip, an angry lump growing in the back of her throat. She hated it when her brother acted like this. He treated her like a baby!

He was the same way with Leslie, too, just in different ways. Like he called her every morning and evening, just to make sure she was doing okay. Or if it came a hard rain, he would freak out and run over to her house, and be under the Burkes' feet all day long. He would even abandon his chores at the drop of a hat if Leslie said she was thinking about _maybe, I'm not sure yet _going to Terabithia.

May Belle knew _why _Jess was this way, and she knew _why _he had made her make that promise months and months ago. But it was still so darn _annoying_ sometimes.

Such as now, when she had only been trying to do something nice.

But rather than tell him he was being stupid and an overprotective doofus, and risk making him angrier or, worse, hurting his feelings (because "Jess means well," as Leslie had once said), May Belle simply sighed. She hitched her shoulders in a reluctant sort of shrug.

"I'm sorry… I won't do it again," she said. "I just… I wanted to surprise you."

Jess grumbled, and she thought he might yell at her some more, or say he was going to tell on her to Momma and Daddy. But then Leslie—good old Leslie the Peacemaker—stepped in with a warm smile.

"What kind of surprise, May Belle?" she asked.

May Belle was more than happy to share. She twirled around and pointed. "Lookit! I made us the Royal Gardens we talked about!"

Scattered haphazardly around the base of the castle stronghold—the tree-house Jess and Leslie had repaired—were newly planted purple flowers. They were May Belle's newest batch, her yearly gift from her and Jess's father. No greenhouse for them. They were meant for Terabithia alone. Some of the flowers were already wilting, a few had not even started to blossom, while others were exceedingly purple, loud, and proud.

"I worked on 'em all afternoon!" said May Belle. She scuffed her muddy shoe into the pine-needled forest floor. "I even missed supper, so now I'm real hungry. But they're pretty, aren't they?"

"They're more than pretty," said Leslie. She bent down to take a closer look at the new garden. "Oh…. They're so beautiful! Aren't they, Jess?"

May Belle peered up at her brother, watching and waiting for his reaction. Her stomach flipped and flopped.

He was quiet for a moment or two, a frown painting his face, until he at last unleashed a heavy sigh. He didn't seem so tight anymore, either. "Well, I guess these ones will actually get a little bit of sunlight, if they're out here."

"Hey!" said May Belle, scowling. "That's not—!"

She felt upset and hurt for all of a second. Because Jess actually burst out laughing, startling her. "I'm kidding, May Belle," he said, smiling at her. "I'm kidding. Really. They're very nice."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh." He brushed the twigs and leaves out of her hair. "You did an awesome job."

May Belle felt as if she had a tiny sun blazing, all aglow, inside her, and she beamed at both him and Leslie. "I did do an awesome job, didn't I?"

"The best!" said Leslie.

"Yeah," said Jess. "But next time, how's about you wait for me and Leslie, and we'll help you with your garden. Okay?"

This time, she did not feel so annoyed or irritated. Her big brother loved her magic flowers, and he loved her. There was not reason to be sad or mad! "Okay. I will. I promise," she said. Jess lifted a brow, and she giggled at his silly face. "I mean it this time!"

"You better!" said Jess.

Leslie suddenly stood tall, dusting off the knees of her running sweats. Her eyes gleamed. Both May Belle and Jess noticed the change in her immediately, and they stood taller as well.

"_Since the Royal Gardens are at long last completed," said the Queen in her most regal voice, "we should celebrate. We shall have a grand feast!"_

"_Good idea, Queen," said King Jess. _

"_Mm-mm!" agreed Princess May Belle. She loved the idea of a party. "We can have it in the Royal Gardens too. Can't we?" _

_The King and Queen nodded. "Where else would we have it?" said Queen Leslie. She tapped her chin. "But we must first make preparations. The kitchen stores are low."_

"Yeah, because you ate all the Oreos and chips we had up there!" laughed Jess.

_The Queen harrumphed and threw back her head, her golden hair flying. "I know not what you speak of, King. Now let us alight to the Castle, and make plans for the feast!"_

_Together, the royals entered the Castle, and lounged in the innermost chambers. Prince Terrian stood guard at the gate. _

_With her fine and beautiful penmanship—the Queen and Princess both agreed the King's was much too horrible _("Gosh, it's not that bad, guys.") _for such an important occasion—Queen Leslie wrote a list of all the items they would require in order to have the finest, grandest feast Terabithia had seen in ages._

_It was during this time that Captain Super Extreme Barbie finally returned, and Princess May Belle told the King and Queen of her close call in the gardens. _

_Queen Leslie gasped. "Squogers! Here?" _

"_And how did they get past the defenses?" said King Jess. _

"_I am not sure, Your Majesty," said Captain Super Extreme Barbie. "I am afraid I was unable to capture the three who attacked our princess, and they have not been seen since. It is as if they have vanished."_

_The King shook his head. "It's okay. You kept Princess May Belle safe, and that's what matters. Thank you very much, captain." _

_For some reason, he never used Captain Super Extreme Barbie's full title. But the princess's bodyguard did not mind. _

"_I have already sent the rest of my squad into the field, Your Majesties. If there is anything to find, they will find it. I have also asked the Treetop Warriors to keep an eye out for us during their patrols."_

_The rulers of Terabithia thanked her once more for her courage and quick thinking. Queen Leslie also promised her a great reward, but Captain Super Extreme Barbie refused any such gift. _

"_I was merely doing my duty," she said. "Princess May Belle is my friend. Nothing will harm her as long as I am around."_

"_Same here," blurted out King Jess. _

May Belle rolled her eyes. "You're ruining the moment, Jess! This Barbie is my bodyguard, not you!"

"Yeah, Jess," said Leslie, grinning impishly. "Let Captain Super Extreme Barbie have her moment."

Jess glanced at the Barbie in question. It was one of the ones Leslie had given May Belle over a year ago, and it was showing quite a bit of wear and tear. It was a much loved doll. He spared it and then May Belle and Leslie a crooked smile. "Uh-huh. And she looks real dangerous, too."

The girls fell into a fit of giggles.

They quickly finished up the list for the picnic they had in mind. Leslie and May Belle demanded Oreos by the pound, while Jess was content with having a good sandwich and apple. They agreed to have apple juice (_"Terabithian cider!" proclaimed Queen Leslie)_ as their beverage. Leslie offered to bring her portable radio to the picnic, too, so they could dance a little.

May Belle delighted in her brother and girlfriend's shared blush.

This all-important task completed, Jess and Leslie next helped May Belle with the last of her weekend homework.

"I hate math," she muttered several times. All the numbers were beginning to look the same on her notebook paper. "It's stupid."

"Tell me about it," both the King and Queen said.

By the time they finished, it was getting late, and they knew they had to hurry home before they got in trouble. Even royals had curfews.

They scrambled out of the tree house, Jess going first to help Leslie and May Belle down. They were careful not to trample over the magic flowers as they jumped to the ground. P.T. greeted them with a friendly _woof-woof_.

And then Jess made May Belle love him even more, and forget all about their earlier argument.

"C'mon, Princess May Belle," he said, crouching down. "Your faithful steed is ready!"

May Belle gleefully clambered onto her brother's back. "Ugh! You weigh more'n lead!" he groaned, and she squealed with laughter as he began "galloping" through the woods. He even neighed and whickered for her during the piggy-back ride.

His ongoing antics soon put Leslie into hysterics. "Yah, mule, yah!" she shouted, in-between belly laughs, as she and P.T. raced alongside him.

"Faster, faster, faster!" May Belle yelled. "Don't let 'em beat us, Jess!"

Jess huffed and puffed, trying and failing not to laugh himself. "Okay, okay! But when we get to the Bridge, you're carrying me!"

Their giggles (Jess, of course, insisted he chuckled) and Prince Terrian's wild yapping echoed loud and clear in the hidden realm of Terabithia, long after they had vanished into the trees and crossed the creek.

OoOoOoO

"Hmph." He glared down at the three bruised, battered foot soldiers. "Mind telling me why you were unable to finish the Gateway, my fine gentlemen?" he said.

It was anything but a compliment.

One growled, almost spitting. "She Weaved on us, the little brat!"

"Yeah!" added another. He was missing his cap, and the rest of his prized armor was dented. "Conjured up some strange she-devil, and it knocked us all around!"

"How fortunate for you that you escaped," he said smoothly, with only a hint of a clack. "But escape you did, relatively unharmed, and the Gateway stills needs constructing. We must have it operational as soon as possible. Our master is depending on it."

The trio lowered their heads. Even angry and humiliated, they knew better than to speak ill of their master or question his desires.

"We know, sir, we know…" whispered the third in a pained voice. His tail was broken. "We'll finish it, we swear."

He smiled. "Thank you. He will be pleased to hear of your loyal service and dedication. And do not worry, gentlemen." They glanced up at him, their beady eyes alight with fervor. "You will have your revenge soon enough. Blood for blood, yes?"

"Blood for blood," they beeped. "Blood for blood! Blood for blood!"

**OoOoOoO**

**Author's Note: I know, I know. Not so much Jess/Leslie interaction to be found here. That will come, I promise! I hope some sibling love isn't too disappointing to read about, though. I have a soft spot for those sorts of relationships.**

**And just how do you spell it? I've seen both squoger and squogre, and have no idea which one—if either—is correct. **

**Reviews are not required, but like donations they are very much appreciated! **

**Until next time, see ya!**

**T.O. Cole**

**Edit (3/7/13): I fixed a couple of redundant sentences I caught on a later reading.**


	3. Dream

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Bridge to Terabithia**_**, in any shape, form, or fashion. That honor belongs to Katherine Paterson, Walden Media, and the Walt Disney Studios. I am simply a grateful fan of a beautiful story.**

**Author's Note: This update came much, much quicker than I thought it would. It is shorter than I planned, though, and that is why. I decided to divide up my original plan for chapter two, because I thought it would flow better this way.**

**May the other chapters come as quickly! And I hope you enjoy this one.**

**OoOoOoO**

**A PLACE FOR US**

**Chapter Two: Dream**

**OoOoOoO**

The sound of a thunderous rain, banging against his window and the roof, roused Jess in the wee hours of the morning.

For once, he did not mind. Downpours usually made him nervous, and anxious long after the last drizzle came to an end, but not this one. Tonight's storm had actually done him a favor, by dragging him out of a strange dream.

The memory of it still danced around in his tangled thoughts.

He remembered standing in a dimly lit, drafty room. Or maybe it had been a cave. He did not know, only that it had been very, very cold.

He thought he had been alone.

Then a moaning had reached his ears, and he saw a dark mass writhing, twisting and curling, in an even darker corner. At one moment it looked almost human, the next it was only curling shadows, but the pitiful, pained cries he had heard had definitely come from it.

Something else—something big—stood close to the shifting shape. He caught only a glimpse of what might have been horns on the hulking figure's head. And… feathers? It seemed to be speaking, and yet all he could make out was a dry _clack_-_clack_-_clack_.

There was nothing inherently scary or terrible about the scene. Nothing attacked him, he still had his pants on, he could actually see—all hints he knew meant he was trapped in some sort of nightmare. Swelled creeks had recently joined the usual signs, but there was not a drop of water to be found here either. _Weird_ was a better way to describe all this.

But as he had stood there, watching the horned figure _clack_-_clacking_ at the fuzzy shape, Jess could not shake off a feeling of dread, of an intense discomfort that made him sick to his stomach. He was on edge, his breathing raspy and short, and his heart pounded wildly against his chest.

He had been _afraid_, _terrified_ even, and he had no idea _why_.

So just as soon as he was glad the rain had woke him up, he blamed it for giving him such a stupid dream.

His head ached something awful now. He still felt uneasy, too, darn it. Sweat soaked his sheets and shirt, and every little sound made him flinch.

Going back to sleep any time soon did not seem at all likely.

With a huff, Jess sat up and flicked on his dependable flashlight. He then grabbed his sketchbook (it was always close at hand) and a pencil nub. Opening the book up to a fresh page, he started to draw.

There were three things that always helped calm him down when he was feeling out of sorts. Since it was close to two in the morning, he knew the first one was probably sleeping like a log next door. Running-number two-was out of the question, too. Drawing was the third thing. It never failed to put him in a good mood.

And, sure enough, the first stroke of the pencil did the trick. Peace settled in, trickling from his muddled brain all the way down and through his tensed-up body. It felt absolutely wonderful. Lord, he loved to draw.*

He had just finished sketching an outline of Prince Terrian's head when he heard the floorboards creak. "Jess?" May Belle, her hair bedraggled, poked her face around the makeshift curtain that separated his part of the room from the girls'. She blinked sleepily at him. "Jess, you okay?" she said.

"Mm-mm," he said. "I'm fine, May Belle."

"You sure? Why're you awake?"

"Just had a dream. Now I'm up and felt like drawing some. Er, sorry. Did I wake you up?"

May Belle shook her head, rubbing at her eyes. "Nuh-uh. It was…" She yawned. "It was all the rain… It's real loud, huh?"

"Yeah. You scared?"

"Nuh-huh."

"Well, then go back to sleep. We got school tomorrow, remember?"

A gusting rush of wind sent more rain crashing against their house. Lightning lit up the room for a few seconds, as the walls groaned and the window rattled.

May Belle did not so much as budge an inch. Instead, she looked him right in the eye. "You want me to stay up with you, Jess?" she said.

He knew why she asked, and his heart went out to her. She had a big mouth, and got on his nerves sometimes, but May Belle really was a good kid.

Maybe instead of just the three, there were four things he could always count on to help him out during a tough spell.

Jess smiled at his little sister. She was yawning again, bless her heart. "Nah, don't worry 'bout it," he said. "I'm okay, and you're tired. You can go on back to bed."

"You sure?" she said, squinting at him.

"Sure I'm sure. C'mon." He set aside his sketchbook and walked her back to her bed. "I'm fine, May Belle. Really, I am. I'll just draw a little more, and then I'll go back to sleep. Okay?"

"Okay," she mumbled. She was already half asleep.

Jess tucked her in, pulling the sheets up to her chin and handing her that night's sleeping companion: the newly dubbed Captain Super Extreme Barbie. He wondered how long it would be before this one lost a leg (or both) in battle, like one of her predecessors had.

Before he left, May Belle held out her arms. The pleading look she gave him was more than he could take, so he bent down and hugged her close.

"Can you please show me your drawing tomorrow?" she whispered.

"Yeah, I will. Promise. It probably won't be very good, though."

She snorted, smiling at him. "Everything you draw's good."

This time, he was the one who had to snort back a laugh. "Huh, I wish. But thanks anyway. Now close your eyes already and go to sleep."

"Kay."

"Good night, May Belle."

"Night, Jess. I love you."

"Love you too."

She snuggled deeper into the blankets, and Jess sat with her until he was certain she had fallen into dreams. He hoped they were nice ones. Stepping carefully back to his paper-and-pencil-strewn bed, he nabbed his sketchbook again and went back to work.

Two hours later, his drawing of P.T. battling a renegade troll was done, and he was finally able to go close his eyes.

OoOoOoO

It was still raining heavily when morning arrived. Jess finished his chores (or at least the first set of them) as usual, but by then his shoes were covered in mud and his socks were soaked. He had to leave the secondhand sneakers on the porch when he ran inside to grab some breakfast and a clean pair of socks. His hair he just let drip dry.

He had a feeling he would be all wrinkled before the day was over.

"Don't forget your coat, Jesse!" said his mother, as he raced through the kitchen a few minutes later.

"I won't, Momma." He grabbed his backpack and shrugged on the coat. It was a bit too big for him—it had belonged to an older, much larger cousin—but it was warm and heavy, perfect for a cold, rainy day like this one. "See you later," he said, giving Mary Aarons a brief but warm hug.

An equally warm smile came over her tired face. "Have a good day, hon."

"You too. Bye, Dad."

Jack Aarons, sitting at the table for a quick bite to eat before work, nodded with a grunt. "Try not to catch a cold out there."

"No promises!"

May Belle was patiently waiting for him on the porch with the umbrella. After Jess laced up his shoes, he opened up the umbrella, and together they braved the elements. They trudged the path to next door, where they waited for Leslie on the Burkes' deck.

Jess knew Leslie must have had an umbrella or three of her own, probably one for each color of the rainbow, but she really liked sharing one with him and May Belle.

He really liked it too. He had told her so once, and Leslie had blushed.

Leslie bounded out of the house only moments after they arrived. She and her colorful wardrobe, complete with polka-dotted boots and yellow raincoat, were the lone bright spots to be found in the damp, gray morning air. Her smile was positively sunny, too, warm and sweet and inviting and, goodness, so, so pretty, until she got a good look at Jess. Then she was just frowning.

"Jeez, Jess," she said, scampering under the big umbrella to huddle with the siblings. They stepped off the deck and made their way to the sludgy road. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Huh?"

"You've got really dark circles under your eyes. You look awful! Did you not sleep well last night?"

Jess hedged for a second or two. He did not want to worry her. He finally offered up what he hoped was a breezy shrug and said, "It's no big deal. I woke up real early and couldn't get back to sleep, so I just drew until I could."

May Belle was not nearly so tactful. "He had a bad dream," she said.

Gosh darn it! "May Belle…" he groaned, glaring at her.

Maybe it was too soon to add her to the list of "Things That Calm Jess Down" after all. The little rat didn't look the least bit sorry about spilling the beans, either.

"A bad dream?" said Leslie.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the icy rain pounded against their umbrella. She gasped, the spark of a thought dawning in her eyes, and he knew _exactly_ what was going through her mind.

It was the same reason why May Belle had offered to stay up with him the night before.

"Oh, Jess…" she whispered. She grabbed his free hand, interlacing their fingers. Her thumb brushed the back of his, again and again. "I'm so, so sorry. I should've called you last night, when the rain didn't let up, and just talked to you for—"

"Hey, hey, it's okay, Leslie," he said gently. He squeezed her hand, letting her know without saying it aloud that he was still grateful for her show of comfort. "It wasn't… It wasn't _that _dream."

She released a pent up breath. "It wasn't?"

He shook his head. "No."

She eyed him closely. "Really, Jess, tell me… It wasn't?"

"It wasn't. The rain, it still sometimes… Well, yeah." Jess shrugged, swallowing. "But I haven't had one of those kinds of dreams for a while."

Leslie sighed again, and hugged his arm close to her. "Good," she said. "I'm glad. About the dreams, I mean," she added hurriedly, wincing, "not that storms still…"

"I know. Same here."

They shared a gentle look, and then she nudged him and said, "So what about your dream last night?"

"Well… It wasn't really a bad one."

"Was too!" said May Belle.

"No, it wasn't," insisted Jess, though he wondered just who he was trying to convince. "It was just… weird."

"_Weird?_" said Leslie. "Weird how?"

"Well, first, I was in this real cold place."

Jess went on to describe the dim, drafty chamber. He told her about the shadow and the clacking figure, too, and how it had all bothered him for some reason. Leslie listened silently, her brow furrowed. She did not interrupt, not even once, or poke fun of him. That was just the way she was.

When he finished talking about his strange dream, Leslie abruptly let go of his arm. Without so much as a warning, she started pushing back the damp hair plastered to his forehead. Her lips pursed. "Hmmm…"

He chuckled a little. "What the heck are you doing?"

"Just checking to see if you have a lightning-bolt scar or not," she said, smiling playfully at him. "Cause I think you've been spying on Voldemort!"

They both choked and laughed uproariously, hard enough that their ribs started to hurt. Even May Belle, who had seen a couple of the _Harry Potter _movies by now, laughed a little too.

Lord, it felt good to laugh.

"Seriously though, Jess," said Leslie, once they had their guffaws mostly under control. They now stood at the bus-stop, muddy water pooling at their feet. "You were right. That _is_ weird! You should cut out all the junk food before bed."

"Yeah," he said. "Cause apples are _totally_ the worst thing you could eat."

She giggled. "You know it! More Oreos for you, mister!"

Jess's stomach turned, even though he knew she was just joking. Eating too many of those dumb cookies always made him sick. He could still remember the time when he had swallowed one more Oreo than he should have. That day in Terabithia had not been filled with magic or exciting battles and daring rescues, but rather him puking up his guts into a bush, moaning, and Leslie stroking the back of his neck saying, _"Gosh, I'm so sorry, Jess…"_ over and over.

He had stuck with apples and a few chips from then on.

"Speaking of Oreos," he said, "how's the list coming along?"

"Pretty good," said Leslie. "I got most of my stuff last night, actually."

May Belle whooped. "Really?"

"Yep. I just need new batteries for the radio, and Dad said he'd grab some when he went after groceries today."

Jess grinned. "Cool. Me and May Belle got the blanket and basket, so we're set, too."

"Great!" said Leslie. "But I don't think we'll get to go on the picnic today. And maybe not even tomorrow." She gestured at the soggy, cold mess they stood in. "Not if it stays like this."

"Aw…" said May Belle, her face scrunching up into a real pout. "I really wanted to go!"

Leslie chuckled and stroked the little girl's hair. "Me, too. But don't worry, May Belle. We'll go, I promise. The rain won't last forever."

Jess had a feeling she had said that for his benefit, too. She was certainly smiling at him now, and she had grabbed his hand again. He smiled back, and his heart soared when her eyes welled up with what could only be happiness.

It was still pouring buckets, his new socks were wet now too, and he had had a stupid dream that kept him awake almost all night. But all in all, it wasn't a half bad start for a Monday.

**OoOoOoO**

**Author's Note: Credit is due where credit is due. The passage with the asterisk at the end is heavily based on one from the novel. I have modified it a little, but not by much. **

**There is another BTT Easter egg in there too. Did you find it?**

**Thank you so much for reading! Again, reviews are not required, but like donations they are very much appreciated. Take care!**

**T.O. Cole**

**Edit (3/11/13): I added running as one of Jess's stress relievers. I can't believe I forgot it, either. Running happens to be one of my favorite things to do, too.**


	4. Monday

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Bridge to Terabithia**_**, in any shape, form, or fashion. That honor belongs to Katherine Paterson, Walden Media, and the Walt Disney Studios. I am simply a grateful fan of a beautiful story.**

**Author's Note: Not as quick as the last update, is it? I'm afraid I had a bit of trouble getting this chapter together, and I'm still not entirely pleased with it. I also got caught up with work and an original story I am working on. **

**All the same, I apologize for the long wait. I hope you enjoy this much longer installment. Happy reading!**

**OoOoOoO**

**A PLACE FOR US**

**Chapter Three: Monday **

**OoOoOoO**

The bus came to a squealing, squelching halt next to the drive a few minutes later—though it felt more like an eternity, thanks to the cold wind and rain. Jess, Leslie, and May Belle clambered aboard, stepping carefully so they would not to slip on the slick steps.

Everyone on the bus looked like a drowned rat, but the normal buzz of laughter, loud voices, and outright shouting was still alive and kicking. No amount of foul weather could ever hope to put an end to the chaos of the Bus Ride. As long as there was no outright violence involved, Mr. Kenny usually turned a blind-eye to the myriad of "adventures" playing out behind the driver's seat.

Oh well. As long as no one threw anything at him, Jess did not care what happened on the bus either.

Not that he was a favorite target these days, not anymore. Janice Avery's crew had long since moved on to Lark Creek High School, taking their pranks and snide remarks with them. Janice herself had even left behind a dire warning for those left behind.

"_Mess with Beanpole and her friends, and I'll come back here and mess up your face!"_

Shocking it may have been, but potential troublemakers had still believed her.

Once, the threat might have surprised Jess, too. But he still remembered the Other Time, that reality only he had lived through, and how Janice had stuck up for him by bloodying Gary Fulcher's nose. And even in This Time, she had taken it upon herself, no questions asked, to look out for her new friend.

Then or Now, Jan—as Leslie liked to call her—had never forgotten Leslie Burke's kindness in the girl's bathroom.

So aside from the general mayhem playing out all around them, rides on the bus for Jess, Leslie, and May Belle were more or less peaceful. Sometimes, he was even able to take a quick catnap.

And a catnap would be very nice today, he thought. Jess rubbed at his tired eyes and fought back a yawn. He hoped he would be able to make it through the day.

May Belle took off down the aisle and flopped beside Alexandra. Jess and Leslie chose a seat not far behind the talkative pair. The bus jolted, whined, and took off again, rumbling morosely down the muddy road.

Jess dug around in his backpack and pulled out his sketchbook. Without saying a word, he opened it up to a certain page and handed it to Leslie. Her face brightened when she saw the sketch.

"Oh, Jess! Is this what you drew last night?"

"Uh-huh."

"It's wonderful!" she said. "And so detailed… It took you, what, only a couple of hours?" She flashed a mischievous grin. "Maybe you should have weird dreams more often, Jess."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure thing. Me and my subconscious will get right on that."

Leslie giggled. "Seriously, though, it's amazing! When you look at it, you can practically smell the excitement!"

"Smell the excitement?" he grinned. "Something must be wrong with your nose, because it smells just like paper to me."

Leslie huffed, fighting back more giggles (he loved making her laugh), and playfully pushed him. "You know what I mean! It's really good, Jess. I think it's one of your best. We should hang it up _there_."

Jess shrugged. "If you want to," he said casually, though inwardly he was bursting with pride.

"I do. And we will. I already know the perfect place for it."

May Belle chose that exact moment to twist around in her seat. "Hey, Jess! Jess!" she yelled, thumping the back of her seat and waving frantically at him. She scrambled into the aisle and jumped into the spot right across from him and Leslie. "That's your drawing, right?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Jess was just showing it to me," said Leslie.

"Can I show it to Alexandra, too?" asked May Belle.

The request caught him a little off-guard. "Um, really?" said Jess, frowning.

"Please let me! I told her how good it was, that it looked just like the stuff in our books. But she won't believe me, so now I gotta show her so she'll know I was right. I just gotta!"

"Just gotta, huh? Can't argue with that." He gave the sketchbook to his little sister. "Go ahead and show her. But be careful with this, May Belle. You have to take real good care of it, okay?"

"I will," she said. "I'll give it back to you when we get to school, I promise. Cross my heart!"

"Alright then. It's all yours."

"Thanks, Jess!"

Hugging the sketchbook close, May Belle charged her way back to her original spot and rejoined her red-haired pal. Immediately, the pair bent over the book, vanishing behind the leather seat.

Jess leaned back, relaxing. He soon noticed Leslie was looking at him and wearing a very bright smile. It was a cute little grin, and it made her cheeks puff up just a bit. He could tell she had something running around in her head.

No chance of a cat-nap now. His curiosity was pricked.

"What?" he said.

"Nothing, really," she said. "It's just, I'm so happy you're finally letting other people see your work."

Jess chuckled. "Gosh, Leslie, it's just May Belle and Alexandra."

"They still count. Used to be, you wouldn't even let me peek at your drawings. And now you're showing them to kids on the bus, sometimes to your mom and dad, and even to a couple of teachers at school. It's great, and… I know!" she suddenly added, nearly shouting. "You should sign up for the art contest!"

"Uh… You mean the one they're having at school?"

"Yeah!" she said. She was so excited, she was almost bouncing. "I heard they're going to have a show at the high school when it's over, so everyone can see all the entrants."

"Uh-huh. That's what Mr. Birchfield said in Art."

"There's going to be prizes, too, and the overall winner gets to represent Lark Creek at the Millsburg County Art Fair. It sounds really cool, Jess."

"And you want me to enter." She nodded. "Why?" he said.

"Well, why not?" she said. "You're talented, Jess. You deserve to get some recognition. Let the whole world see what you can do!"

He shifted in his seat, his stomach suddenly all jittery and fluttery. It was one thing to let a few people look at his drawings ever so often, but the whole school? The whole county? "I-I dunno…" he stuttered.

She touched his shoulder. "You don't have to if you don't want to," said Leslie gently. "It was just an idea. But at least think about it, okay? I know you'd do great."

Just like that, his nerves faded a smidge or three. "You think so?"

"No, I don't _think_ so. I didn't say that, did I? I said I _know_ so. There's a difference."

She smiled at him again, and, goodness, it was so sweet and warm and pretty, just so _Leslie_, how could he not smile back?

"Alright, alright!" he said. "I'll think about it."

"That's all I ask," she said, beaming.

And, not caring who saw, Leslie leaned forward and kissed his cheek, but still quite close to his lips.

He swore he heard May Belle squealing happily up front.

OoOoOoO

_Or maybe not_, he later thought.

May Belle certainly didn't look very cheerful. Not even close. She bore a thunderous scowl as she stomped off the bus, her little fists clenched, her thin shoulders tense. She was still wearing the same ugly look when she shoved Jess's sketchbook smack into his stomach.

"There!" she practically snarled.

"Ouch," grunted Jess, rubbing his gut. "Jeez, what's wrong with you, Little Miss Sunshine?"

"Me and Alexandra aren't friends anymore," she said.

Jess and Leslie shared a glance tempered by both amusement and disbelief. "Oh, May Belle, that can't be true," said Leslie.

His sister huffed. "It is true! She's not my best friend, and I'm not talking to her ever, ever again!"

Okay. He would bite. "What happened, May Belle?" asked Jess.

"I showed her your drawing," she grumbled, crossing her arms, "like I said I was gonna. But she still wouldn't believe it was yours, 'cause she said there's no way a boy can draw that good. I told her you could, and that you drew lots of stuff like that, all the time, and she said I was lying 'cause you're my brother. And then she wouldn't give me five dollars, even though you kissed on the bus, we saw you, since it was just on the cheek. But a kiss is a kiss, and I told her that, but she said no, and won't even give me two and a half dollars! And I said she was being stupid and mean, and she's not my friend anymore!"

She told the story in close to one breath, barely even pausing between her rushed sentences. Now May Belle was huffy for another reason. Cheeks flushed, her eyes hot, she was trembling with nothing short of rage.

Jess was trapped between wanting to chuckle and feeling bad for her. But since she had been there for him the night before, and because he was her big brother, he swallowed the laugh bubbling up in the back of his throat. He almost choked on it, but he bravely managed to keep a straight face.

"That's real rough, May Belle," he said. "I'm sorry."

Leslie nodded, and gave the little girl a one-armed hug. "I'm sure things will be better soon, though," she said gently.

"If you say so," muttered May Belle.

The bell rang, and a still glowering May Belle charged down the hallway towards her classroom. Jess and Leslie watched her until her mud-spattered raincoat vanished into a sea of untamed second-graders.

Jess finally allowed himself to laugh. "Betcha she and Alexandra are friends again by the end of the day," he said.

"And I bet they've made up by lunch," said Leslie.

He heard the note of challenge in her voice, and with a grin he rose up and met it head on. "Want to make that a real bet?"

Her eyes gleamed. "Ha! You're on, Aarons! What are the stakes?"

"Okay, if I win, you have to…" The idea struck him with all the power of a lightning bolt, and it was simply too good to pass up. "You have to wear the brown dress to school tomorrow."

Leslie balked, pulling off a rather impressive grimace. "The one my aunt sent me?" she said. _"Really?"_

"Yep, that's the one!"

The dress in question was a drab one, shoved into the back of Leslie's closet with other castoffs and forgotten bits and pieces. Other than its straight, uniform cut, it boasted no shape or form whatsoever. It had no embroidery, no frills, and had never heard of bangles or buckles or buttons. It was just a dull, dry sort of brown color, as boring as it was ugly.

In short, the dress was about as far from Miss Leslie Burke as it was possible to get. She hated it, and he knew she hated it.

And that is what made it so perfect.

"Ugh…" she groaned. "Jess, that thing is… It's just so, so… Ugh!"

He nudged her good-naturedly. "You're not gonna back out of the bet 'cause of a little ole dress, are you?"

She scowled, nose scrunching up. "What? No. No! No way am I forfeiting to you!"

"Sooooo…?" he drawled.

"Fine!" she sighed. "You got it! If you win, I'll wear that monstrosity to school."

"You can't add anything to it to make it look better, either," he added.

A grumpy sort of look crossed her face. "I wasn't going to, thank you, but okay. I won't. It'll just be a bad case of the Ugly. But if _I _win…" Leslie smirked a little. Oh gosh, that couldn't be good. "If I win, you have to sign up for the art contest."

This time, it was Jess's turn to waver. "W-Wait, what? But you said I could think about it!"

"Hey now," she said with an impish grin, her hands on her hips. "If I have to risk wearing a horrible dress, you have to risk something big too! Fair is fair, right?"

"Right…" His stomach was jumping around again, but he still gave in and nodded. "Alright," he said. "If you win, I promise I'll enter the art contest."

She pumped a fist. "Sweet!" she said giddily.

Lord, she was acting like she had already won the bet. "Not that it's ever gonna happen."

"We'll just see about that, buster. So it's a bet?"

She held out her hand. Jess took it, and as they shook on it they smiled at one another.

"It's a bet," he said.

Then they both remembered the bell had rung nearly four minutes ago. Horrified, and without another word, they pelted down the slick hallway for class, skidding and bumping into lockers along the way.

OoOoOoO

They just barely beat the tardy-bell.

Not that it even mattered. Their strict English teacher, Mrs. Baker, was out with a bad cold. Other than the expected "Beep beep beep" from Scott Hoager (which, by now, was more annoying than anything else), their rushed entrance was hardly noticed.

The substitute was a sleepy-eyed man with a dry, monotone voice. His marching orders from the bedridden Baker were not to give the class busy work or discuss a new assignment, but to show a film based on a classic novel instead.

The class griped and moaned, until they learned the movie was the newest version of _Journey to the Center of the Earth_.

Because, hey, it was loosely based on a book, right?

It turned out to be a pretty good movie, though it was obvious where the 3D was supposed to have been. Jess liked it, though he just knew he was going to be teased for looking a little like the actor playing Sean.

He especially liked the bioluminescent bird. Man-eating plants, dinosaurs, and vicious, sharp-toothed fish he had expected, but the glowing bird was unique. The little fellow sparked Jess's imagination. By the time the bell rang, he was burning with an intense desire to bring his idea to life on paper.

Thankfully, the next class was Art. Without waiting for instructions from Mr. Birchfield, Jess took up his pencils—number twos and colored nubs alike—and went right to work, falling into a zone where nothing else existed but the budding sketch.

He drew several birds, adding his own personal touch to each one. Some had feathery crests on their heads. Others had long, flowing tails, while a few even boasted curved, parrot-like beaks. He kept a couple simple, though, just like his inspiration, tiny and a little chubby but with deep, intelligent eyes.

The one in the center of the flock (one of the simple ones) he colored a plain blue, but its friends came in a vast array of colors and vibrant hues. Emerald green, burnt orange, indigo and pink, gold and silver and bronze… Jess used every colored pencil he could get his hands on.

Finally, he added a shading of color around each and every bird, and—presto!—they were now glowing.

Jess was more than happy to share his newest creation with Leslie. She, in turn, was more than happy to abandon her drawing of what might have been a hippo or a fat dog, but was probably neither.

He still thought it was hilarious that, as masterfully artistic as Leslie was when it came to design and penning stories, she could barely manage a stick figure.

"They're beautiful…" she said, in a hushed sort of voice. "What are they?"

"Starbirds," he said. As soon as he said it aloud, he knew it was the right name for them. The rest came flowing along like a river. "When a star falls over _that place_, it doesn't just vanish forever. It becomes a bird. They keep a little bit of their old starlight with them, though, so they're always glowing."

Her eyes sparkled, his imagination breathing life into her own. "The starbirds used to be hunted and caged," she said, "and treated terribly, especially by _his_ servants. A lot of people thought they could grant wishes, since they were living stars."

"Can they?" he said, enjoying the tale. He loved it when Leslie told stories, especially those she made up on the spot.

"Oh, no one knows for sure," said Leslie. "And if they can, they would never help those with dark hearts. So _he_ and his servants thought they might have to kill the starbirds, to release their hidden power. But before they could, the king and queen discovered _the place_, and they rescued all the starbirds _he_ had captured. Now all the starbirds are close allies of the royal family."

"Yeah?"

She nodded. "Mm-mm. Especially this one." She pointed at the small blue bird in the middle of all the others. "He and the king are very good friends. In fact," she said, smiling, "he once led the king to safety, when the king was lost deep underground."

Jess sputtered, and unleashed a mixture of a groan and a chuckle. "Argh! Not you too!" he said, collapsing into the desk and burying his face between his arms.

Leslie just laughed.

OoOoOoO

As the wet morning wore into a damp afternoon, the lack of sleep from the night before caught up with Jess. The hum of the constant rain, pattering a hypnotic lullaby against the windows, and the dark skies did not help much.

Gosh, he was _dog tired_.

And he couldn't hide it, either. Drowsy, eyes achy, his jaw cracking with yawn after yawn after yawn, he nearly nodded off several times in Social Studies.

Thank God for Leslie. She noticed he was having trouble, and did everything she could to help. She nudged and poked him whenever he started to droop, jostled his feet or whispered his name. She even risked passing him a few notes (complete with smiley-faces and very, very corny jokes) during class, just to keep him awake.

It helped. It helped a lot, but it was still a real struggle to keep his eyes peeled.

The noon bell finally—mercifully—rang. It was time for lunch, and Jess was actually looking forward to squeezing into the cramped cafeteria. Maybe putting some food into his system would get his motor running again.

At least he hoped so. He still had the rest of the day to slug through, and a load of chores and homework waiting for him at home.

Oh joy.

But, hey, that was Monday for you.

After stopping by their lockers to get rid of their books, Jess and Leslie blazed a trail for the cafeteria. Before they reached the lunchroom, they were forced to navigate through a tidal wave of second-graders. Sweaty, hyper, and more than a little smelly, the kids were on their way back from recess in the gym. He and Leslie, as well as a few others from their class, took cover by plastering themselves to the wall.

She suddenly tugged on his arm. "Hey, look."

He glanced in the direction she pointed, and quickly caught sight of May Belle. His little sister and Alexandra were walking side by side, giggling and smiling. They cheerfully waved at him and Leslie as they passed.

Leslie was also smiling. "Looks like they made up," she said.

"Uh-huh. Big surprise there," he yawned. "This is my surprised face, by the way."

She laughed and he drank it all up, a grin tugging at his lips too.

"And you know what that means…" she added brightly, a definite sing-song lilt in her voice.

"I know, I know." They peeled themselves off the wall and tried for the lunchroom again. "I admit it. They're friends again before lunch. You win."

"So you're going to do it? The art contest?"

"I promised, didn't I?" he said, and felt wonderfully happy (even over the maddening urge to yawn yet again) at the sudden warmth now glowing in her eyes. "I'll go and grab a sign-up sheet after school, okay?"

"Why not now? We have a little bit of time."

"Because it's pizza day, and I'm hungry."

"Of course. Silly me."

OoOoOoO

Pepperoni pizza worked wonders, reviving Jess and giving him enough energy to survive the rest of the day. Not even a rough recess in the gym—Scott Hoager and Gary Fulcher took a perverse sort of pleasure in hitting people (mostly him, because he had an "annoying" habit of beating them like drums at the daily races) as hard as they possibly could during Batter Ball—dampened his newfound spirits.

Especially since Leslie, after they had knocked him out of the game, had whacked both of them a few seconds later. She had excellent aim.

So while he was still tired by the time the final bell clanged, he was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (as his grandmother was so fond of saying) as he and Leslie walked to the office. Sign-up sheets for the Lark Creek Elementary School Art Contest could be picked up there.

He asked the secretary for one.

"Mm," she said. "Cutting it a little close, aren't we?"

"Um, yeah. I guess so. Sorry," he said. "I can still enter though, right?"

"Yes. But will you be able to come up with something… presentable… in just four days?"

"Yeah. I mean, I'll try," said Jess.

He was graced with a doubtful harrumph. Leslie glowered, her eyes narrowed, but the secretary ignored her sour gaze.

"Well, as long as your entry and a completed entrance form are turned in by Friday, it should be fine." She handed him a sign-up sheet. "Here you are."

"Thanks, ma'am."

His politeness did little to warm her frosty tone. He thought it may have even irritated her more. "Be sure to read and follow all the rules, or you will be disqualified," she said curtly. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am, I do. I mean, I will. Thank you."

"Oh, Jess!" said much friendlier voice. "You're entering the art contest?" Jess and Leslie turned to see Miss Edmunds walk into the office, guitar case and car keys in hand. "Or are you the one entering, Leslie?"

"Who, _me_?" laughed Leslie. "Gosh, no way! I would never force anyone to look at _my_ drawings. That'd be, like, a cruel and unusual punishment!"

Miss Edmunds chuckled along with her. But Jess only mumbled, "Well, I think you're getting better."

Leslie blushed. "That's real sweet of you, Jess," she said, more than a touch bashfully, "but we both know that's not true. Nope," she added, patting him on the shoulder, "this here's our future champ, Miss Edmunds. Just you wait and see!"

"I won't disagree with you there," said Miss Edmunds. "Jess is a very talented artist."

He beamed. He no longer had a crush on her, but he still valued Miss Edmunds' opinion. "Thank you. I'll do my best."

Miss Edmunds smiled. "I'm sure you will. Though I will admit… I _am_ a little surprised you're entering the contest, Jess."

"Um, yeah, well… I kind of lost a bet," he said.

"No need to ask who's responsible for that," said their Music teacher, casting a knowing look in Leslie's direction.

His best friend flashed a very wicked grin. "Guilty as charged! And proud of it!"

"She's having T-shirts made as we speak," said Jess.

"I'll take a size medium, then," said Miss Edmunds. They all shared a good laugh. "Seriously, though…" she continued, once they were able to catch a breath. "Please don't take this the wrong way, Jess, but I'm glad you lost the bet. It's wonderful you're entering. I'm looking forward to seeing your work."

"Then you're going to the show after the contest is over?"

"Yes. I want to, but I also have to. I'm one of the judges, you know."

"Really?" he said.

_Makes a lot of sense, though_, he thought. Miss Edmunds was a very artistic person. Who better to judge the contest than her?

"Yep," she nodded. "But don't go thinking this means I'll go easy on you, Mr. Aarons," she said teasingly. "It just means I know _exactly_ what you are capable of. Got it?"

He smiled at her. "Gotcha."

"Don't worry, Miss Edmunds," said Leslie. "You're going to see something amazing. Jess never gives anything less than his very best, you know."

This time, he was the one to blush.

OoOoOoO

They said goodbye to Miss Edmunds and then scrambled to catch the bus. One loud ride later, they were tramping through the mud and muck for home.

May Belle immediately pelted for the Aarons' house, but Jess stuck with Leslie. A mound of homework weighed heavily on their shoulders, and since it was too wet and cold to visit their kingdom, what better place to tackle it than the Gold Room?

The only downside, really, was that most of the homework was Math problems.

Jess did not have a head for numbers or equations. He never had. Leslie was a bit better at it than he was, but Math was definitely not her strongest subject—something Madison Moore loved to mock her about, which bothered Jess a great deal.

He was by no means responsible for Madison's missing (and much beloved) Edward Cullen folder, though. Nope. No sire-e.

Thankfully, Mrs. Burke _did_ have a head for Math, and she was more than happy to lend the two a helping hand.

Jess could only guess Judy was not working on a new book at the moment. If she had been, he knew and Leslie would have racked their poor brains for hours and hours, and still have had to settle for a C.

But Judy wasn't working on a book right now. And thanks to that wonderful, wonderful woman, they finished the Math problems in record time. The rest of their homework soon followed.

Jess stayed for quite a while afterwards, sitting on the couch with Leslie, listening to music on the radio.

He was not too proud to deny they cuddled. They did, and they did it a lot. Leslie liked to call him her "Cuddle Buddy," and though he had no such nickname for her, she was his too. She would lay her head on his shoulder, and he would wrap an arm around her and pull her closer, their free hands clasped in front of them. He would brush his thumb over her knuckles, again and again, and sometimes she would even thread her fingers through his hair.

No one else could get away with doing that but her.

They never said much during these moments, if they even spoke at all. Talking with Leslie, swapping stories and jokes, was always fantastic, but they didn't _need_ to talk to enjoy one another's company. Simply being _together_ was enough.

It was a true blessing, and one they did not take for granted.

So they cuddled.

But like all good things, this time eventually had to come to an end. Jess had to leave for supper and take care of his chores, but he promised Leslie he would call her before he went to bed.

"I'll hold you to that," she said, walking him to the door. "Oh, and before I forget… Tell your family about the contest."

He squinted at her. "Why?"

"Because they might be interested?" she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Because they might want to come to the art show on Saturday?"

"Yeah right."

"Hey, you never know. Just tell them."

He rolled his eyes a little, but said "Sure" anyway. Then he hugged and kissed her goodbye. "I'll try and call about 8:00, okay? Brenda should be off the phone by then."

"Want to bet on it?" she giggled, her eyes radiant.

"Yeah, uh, no thanks."

They hugged again—kisses were very nice, but Jess loved these sorts of long, warm hugs, when he swore he could feel her heart beating against his—and then he was running as hard as he could across the yard for his house. The rain had returned in force, and he had given the umbrella to May Belle.

He was soaked through by the time he finished work in the greenhouse and stepped into the kitchen. His mother, cooking at the stove, glanced up and frowned.

"Gracious… Go take a shower and put some dry clothes on right now, Jesse Oliver. You're going to catch a cold."

"Alright."

Brenda, lounging in the living room, smirked. "Jeez. What've you been doing? Playing in the shower with your girlfriend again?"

Jess glared heatedly at her, heart pumping, but he bit his tongue and let Momma handle it. He could hear her snapping at Brenda as he charged up the stairs. He hoped his sister was given more than just a lecture, though. She was getting worse and worse.

He walked into his and the little girls' bedroom. May Belle was playing with her Barbie dolls, but she looked up and burst out laughing when she saw him.

"You're all wet!" she squealed.

"Really? I couldn't tell," he said. He dug through his drawer for some new clothes. "Did you get your homework done?"

"Uh-huh."

"Didn't need any help?"

"Just a little. But Ellie helped me, so it's okay."

Jess could not help but smile a bit. If Brenda was getting worse, Ellie was getting better. It was nice, knowing he might actually have an older sister who cared.

He tossed his wet socks at May Belle, just to annoy her, and she returned the favor in kind with a shoe. He dodged the projectile with a laugh, and retreated to the bathroom.

One wonderfully hot shower later, he was dry and clean and sitting up in bed, sketchbook and colored pencils in hand. Since he had had to turn it in as an assignment, he redid the starbird picture he had drawn in Art class.

With a bit more time on his hands to work with this time around, the second edition turned out much cleaner and crisper than the first. He was quite proud of it, and when he showed it to her, May Belle loved it too. He also told her the story he and Leslie had crafted, and it absolutely enthralled her.

"Can the purple bird be mine?" she asked.

"Which one?"

"The one with the long tail and lots of feathers on its head. It's really pretty."

"Then it's yours, Princess. Is it a boy or a girl?"

"Girl!" she said immediately.

He chuckled. "Why'd I even ask?"

They dubbed the purple starbird Violet. Hardly original, but it fit. May Belle had just managed to wrangle a promise from Jess to draw a picture of her, Violet, and Captain Super Extreme Barbie when they were called down for supper. Tucking away the sketchbook, Jess walked downstairs with his little sister.

Their father had come home while Jess was in the shower, and a sparkly May Belle was given an expected hug and kiss. Jess got a firm pat on the back, but he recognized the gruff gesture for the show of affection it was.

"Good day at school?" said Jack.

"It was okay. For a Monday, I mean," said Jess.

The comment actually drew a quiet laugh from his father.

Supper was a thick stew, the perfect meal for a cold, wet day. Brenda complained, of course, so Jess (who thought the stew was delicious, and said so) offered to eat her share for her. She shut-up after that, though he noticed the mad-hate glare she was sending his way.

_Momma must've lit into for me_, he thought. Leave it to Brenda to blame him for her oh-so rotten life. He couldn't bring himself to feel sorry for her.

Other than this brief, albeit bloodless, clash, mealtime for the Aarons was a pleasant affair. May Belle went into minute detail about her day. Joyce Ann babbled several words, amusing everyone. After a bit of firm coaxing, Ellie even talked about the two colleges she was interested in. Brenda needed a new dress for some reason or another—"I need it by next week!" she said—and Mary said she would take her to the Millsburg Plaza on Saturday.

"But that's when—!" Jess blurted out, before snapping his mouth shut.

His family stared at him. "What is it, hon?" said his mother.

He hesitated, wondering whether to charge on ahead or not. _Just tell them_, Leslie had said. It sounded so simple… He sucked in a breath.

"Well, um, there's an art show at the high school on Saturday," he said.

"An art show?" said Jack, brow furrowed. "What art show?"

Jess fidgeted in his seat. "It's for the art contest at school. They're gonna show all the art and stuff in the high school's gym on Saturday, so everybody can see 'em, before announcing the winner. And, uh, well… I was going to enter it."

"Yay, Jess!" said May Belle, an excited grin peppering her face. "You'll win! I just know it!"

"I'm gonna try."

"Are there any prizes?" said Ellie.

Brenda snorted. "Like he'd win anything…"

Jess ignored her. Everyone else did, too. "Yeah. Third place gets twenty-five dollars, second-place gets fifty, and first-place gets a hundred. And if you win it all, you get to represent Lark Creek at the county Art Fair."

"That sounds pretty cool," said Ellie.

"Uh-huh… I guess so. Anyway," he said slowly, "I was just wondering if you'd come to the show on Saturday. I mean, you don't have to or anything. I'd like you to, but if you can't…"

Mary smiled at him. "What time is the show, Jess?"

"It starts at two o'clock, and—"

"Gosh, that's too bad," interrupted Brenda. She sounded anything but sorry. "Because Momma already said she's taking me to the Plaza on Saturday."

May Belle scowled. "C'mon! You can get a stupid old dress anytime, Brenda!" she said.

Their older sister looked downright smug. "No, I can't. I need it by next week. It's important! My friends are putting on a fashion show to raise money for school."

"Brenda…" said their mother.

"And we won't have time to get my outfit if we go and waste time at Jess's little art whatever."

Ellie tapped her spoon against her bowl and muttered, "First time I've heard of this fashion show."

"Shut-up! There is so going to be a fashion show! And I'd have to back out if I didn't have a new dress. I can't do that! I promised my friends!"

"That's enough, Brenda. You won't have to do without," said Mary, sighing tiredly. She glanced at Jess, and he knew what she was going to say before she even said it. "I'm sorry, Jess. We'll try to hurry back, but I can't make any promises."

Jess tried not to pay attention to the stupid smirk on Brenda's face. "That's okay," he said. "It was kind of short notice and everything. So you don't have to—"

"I'll go," said Jack Aarons.

The sudden statement took everyone by surprise. "W-What?" stuttered Jess.

"Not hard of hearing, are you? I said I'd go."

"But… I figured you'd have to work, Dad. Aren't you on the weekend shift?"

His father shrugged. "Yeah," he said. "But I think I can afford to miss half a day. Danny owes me a favor, anyway. I'll get him to cover for me."

"You… want to come?"

"How many times I got to say it? I'll be there." Jack offered another one of his small grins. "Unless you don't want me to come, son…"

"No, no! I mean, yeah, I do," said Jess, trying not to smile like an idiot. "Yeah!"

"Good," said his dad, leaning back in his chair. "Should be a good time. I've seen your stuff. You're da—" Mary glared at him, and he cleared his throat. "You're real good, son. I'd like to see you blow some competition out of the water."

This show of confidence and support from his father—crusty, hard old Jack Aarons—made Jess's chest swell with pride. He swore fireworks were going off in his gut, he was so happy. Brenda being an ass meant nothing compared to this.

"C-Cool," he said. "Thanks, Dad."

"I'm coming too!" said May Belle. She was still glaring daggers at Brenda.

Ellie smiled. "I'll go, too," she said. "I'll take pictures for you, Momma. I won't let Dad get a hold of the camera, either, so don't worry. There won't be any thumbs or feet."

"Thank-you, sweetheart," said Mary.

Jack grumbled. "That was one time. One time, and I've gotten better since then."

"Yeah. Those thumbs and feet are in focus now," said Jess.

Except for Brenda, who was sulkily glaring at her bowl, everyone laughed.

OoOoOoO

While Ellie looked after Joyce Ann, Jess and May Belle helped their mother wash the dishes after supper. Jack took command of the T.V., taking a well-earned moment to relax. Brenda vanished upstairs.

Jess was afraid she would take up all the phone-time, just to be spiteful, but Mary made sure she was off by 7:50. He thought he even overheard her threatening to ground Brenda for her sorry attitude, which made him smile.

Either way, the phone was all his by the time 8:00 rolled around, and he dialed Leslie's number as soon as the promised time arrived.

Leslie answered on the second ring. _"Hey, Jess!"_ she said.

He marveled at how deliriously happy she sounded that he had called. She had blessed his life in so many ways, but it always took him by surprise to think—if only for a moment—he might well have done the same for her.

"Hey," he said. "How's it going?"

"_In the two or three hours since you left? Pretty good."_

"Same here. And get this."

He told her about his dad (and May Belle and Ellie) agreeing to come to the art show. Leslie knew exactly how much it meant to him, because she gushed, _"Oh, Jess, that's wonderful!" _She cackled, and added, _"I bet you're glad you lost that bet now, huh?"_

"No more bets!" he laughed.

They talked for a while about everything and nothing, all at once. They discussed whether he should draw something entirely new for the art contest, or if one of his older sketches might be best. He told her about May Belle and Violet, too, and she then claimed one of the bright green starbirds as her companion. They even made plans to ask the school to hold a creative writing contest, and they laughed at "poor" Brenda's sudden misfortunes.

As with every night they talked, it was all over in a flash. It seemed it had only been a minute or two when he heard his mother shouting up the stairs.

"It's been thirty minutes, Jess!"

"Okay!" he called back. Into the phone he said, "Sorry, Les. I gotta go."

"_That's okay,"_ she said. _"You need to go to bed anyway. You sound tired, Mr. Sleepy!"_

"Yeah… Thanks for that, by the way. For helping me stay awake in school, I mean."

"_No problem, Jess. It was fun passing notes. We should do it more often!"_

"Maybe."

What followed was a ritual of theirs, a tradition born on the same day he woke up in This Time and changed everything. They repeated it every night, near word for word, either in person or over the phone. No day was complete without having heard it.

"See you tomorrow, Leslie?"

"_Always. See you tomorrow, Jess?"_

"I'll be on your front porch, waiting for you."

"_I love you, Jesse."_ There was a world's worth of emotion in her voice.

His whole heart was in his. "I love you too, Leslie."

"_Bye, Jess. Sweet dreams."_

"Good night, Leslie. Sweet dreams to you too."

They hung up at the same time.

Jess returned the phone to its receiver and went back to his room. He added a few final touches to the starbird picture before turning in for the night. He wore a near constant smile.

_If all Mondays were like this_, he thought, closing his eyes, _I might learn to like them_.

OoOoOoO

Another powerful storm struck, late in the night. The wind howled and icy rain pounded the roof, as lightning lit up the boiling sky.

But Jess heard and saw nothing but the _clack-clack-clack_ of horned figure, standing next to a writhing, hissing mass of shadows.

OoOoOoO

**Author's Note: Goodness gracious! This chapter is at least three times the size of my previous ones… I was beginning to wonder myself if I would ever finish it. Again, I apologize for taking so long to post it.**

**And now for some notes…**

**I based Lark Creek School on my own middle-school. It, too, was part of a rural Southern community, and like Lark Creek it was an elementary/junior-high school. Once we moved up to the sixth-grade, we had a homeroom, but we also changed classes for different subjects. **

**I have no idea whether or not Lark Creek was the same. Janice's desk (during the love note prank) was in a certain classroom, after all. But I decided to use the idea anyway. It helped me write the scenes, by drawing on my own experience.**

**Recess in the gym was also something we did at my middle-school, when rain kept us from running around outside. The grade levels had certain times they could use it. Batter Ball is just what we called Dodge Ball.**

**As many others have done, I have combined the 2007 film characters with their book counterparts. Madison is the name of the girl who brown-nosed Ms. Myers, and was later jealous and teased Leslie, in the beginning of the film. In the book, the same character (or at least who I believe to be the same) is named Wanda Kay Moore. So I just gave Madison the same last name.**

**I also seem to be carrying on the tradition of Brenda being the meanest sister. **

**And, yes, I did a shameless shout-out to Josh Hutcherson's filmography. I couldn't help myself. **

**Though, I promise, there is a reason for it.**

**Leslie will be our main POV in the next chapter. There will also be an action sequence! **

**I would also like to thank richard kaysar for reviewing. I know I sent you a PM-reply, richard, but I wanted to thank you publicly, too. Your reviews were much appreciated! Thank you!**

**Until next time, please take care of yourselves. Thank you so much for reading!**

**T.O. Cole **

**Edit 4/1/13: I fixed an error I noticed. I have also removed the timeline explanation from my Author's Note, and have decided to go with my original plan with this story taking place in spring of 2008. You can see the hints of that in the very first chapter. Which, I will admit, I had forgotten. That means in this universe, _Journey _came out several months earlier than in ours. Hopefully, that won't be too big of a distraction. Should I decide to alter the timeline again, and do a better job continuity-wise than I did before, I will let you guys and gals know. Thanks!**


	5. Rainy Days

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Bridge to Terabithia**_**, in any shape, form, or fashion. That honor belongs to Katherine Paterson, Walden Media, and the Walt Disney Studios. I am simply a grateful fan of a beautiful story.**

**OoOoOoO**

**Author's Note: Good gosh. I'm late again. Even worse than last time, too! Real life dropped in big time during the past few weeks. I'm still wrapped up a bunch of stuff, in fact. All the same, I apologize for the long wait. **

**Last time, I said there would be an action sequence in this chapter. And, originally, there was one. But as I was writing, I felt it worked better to give that little adventure its own chapter. The events leading up to it deserved their own section too.**

**So I bit the bullet and divvied it all up. I am still working on the action sequence, and I promise it will feature in the next chapter.**

**Hofstadter'sLaw, you asked me to explain the BTT Easter egg found in Chapter Two. Sure thing! It is the story of Jess's having gotten sick after gorging himself on too many Oreo cookies. In the Josh Hutcherson/AnnaSophia Robb/Lauren Levine commentary, the kids are talking and eating snacks. AnnaSophia calls Josh "Mr. Healthy" because he is eating an apple while she is enjoying the cream-filling of a New Zealand "Oreo". Josh explains that he chose an apple—unlike AnnaSophia, who said she couldn't stop eating the cookies—because he would have made himself sick if he had eaten too many Oreos. Which is what I made happen in **_**A Place For Us**_**, unfortunately for poor Jess. **

**Anyway, on with the show!**

**OoOoOoO**

**A PLACE FOR US**

**Chapter Four: Rainy Days **

**OoOoOoO**

Leslie had no need for an alarm clock. She had a furry Prince, one who also doubled as a part-time Court Jester*, to wake her up each and every morning.

He had several different methods. Sometimes, he would woof and whine in her face. Other times, he made a nuisance of himself—either tugging at her sheets or running wild around the room—until she finally roused and took notice.

But his favorite way to pull her away from dreams was to lick her bare toes. It was an effective technique, but also a ridiculously ticklish one. She always woke up in a fit of giggles.

It was no different this morning. One moment she was flying a cool spaceship, and Jess was icing a cake right there in the cockpit (and, gosh, he was _really, really _good at it!), the next she felt something warm and wet dabbing at the heels of her feet.

_Lick-lick-lick_.

Leslie squirmed and grumbled, desperately trying to cling to rocket controls, shimmering stars, and the smell of chocolate.

It was a losing battle. The warm wet thing refused to go away, and it soon moved its attention to her sensitive soles and toes.

_Lick-lick-lick_.

She was sorely outmatched. She burst out laughing.

The spaceship and Baker Jess vanished in an instant. They were replaced by rumpled green sheets and goldenrod walls. Her bedroom was dark, and she thought she could hear the pitter-patter of rain against the window.

"Erm…" she mumbled.

Leslie squinted at her wristwatch. It was 6:14… No, wait, make that 6:15. She still had at least fifteen or twenty minutes before she had to get up and start the day. Moaning, Leslie buried her face back into her favorite pillow. She closed her eyes, hugged Tobias Teddy close, felt herself drifting, drifting, drifting…

_Lick-lick-lick_.

She jolted with a shout, giggling. "Ugh! P.T.! Stop it!"

The pint-sized menace simply _woofed_ and wrestled with her foot. He was soon lapping at her toes again.

_Lick-lick-lick_.

She squealed. "Okay, okay!" she laughed. She clambered out of bed to escape the new attack. "I'm up, I'm up!"

Prince Terrian _woofed_ again. Leslie thought he looked more than a little smug.

"Dumb dog," she said. She gently roughed his ears and kissed his head. "Just you wait, mister. You'll get yours one day."

"_Woof-woof_," said P.T. with a doggy grin, wagging his tail. Stumbling over the blankets, he toppled off the mattress and bounded out of the room, no doubt to wait for his breakfast downstairs.

After pulling on her robe, Leslie chased after him. She hopped down the stairs, two at a time, and slid along the wooden floorboards for the kitchen. Catching sight of her parents in the Inspiration Room, she pulled up and poked her head inside.

"Good morning, Mom! Good morning, Dad!" she said.

"Morning, Leslie," they both said.

And then her mother was back to flipping through a stack of books, even as Bill Burke typed away like a madman. His eyes were glued to the computer screen.

_Looks like they've been bitten by the writing bug_, thought Leslie. She knew then she had lost them for a good, long while.

Once upon a time, the loss would have depressed her. How sad was it, having your parents work at home but never spending much time with them? She could still remember all the lonely nights, eating supper by herself at the dining room table, or the summer vacations when there was nothing to do but read or write, alone, because a book needed finishing and—surprise, surprise—there was no time to take said vacation.

It was still a little upsetting, of course. She loved her parents and, being the odd duck that she was, she liked hanging out with them. It hurt, having them around… but, well, not really around.

The sting was not nearly as bad as it would have been in the past, though. Not even close. Because while Mr. and Mrs. Burke were holed up in the Inspiration Room, a new novel the only thing on their minds, she knew she now had someone else she could always turn to for love and support.

That someone was none other than good ole Jesse Oliver Aarons Jr.

The thought of Jess made her feel all warm and tingly inside. Leslie knew a cheesy grin was dancing its way across her face. It probably made her look half-crazed. But she did not mind. She felt just so darn happy.

Jess, whether he was in the flesh or simply flitting through her thoughts, always made her feel that way.

Leslie knew she was in love with her best friend. She also knew some people might scoff at such a bold declaration. _You're only thirteen! _she could hear them saying. She imagined they would wag their heads and fingers at her, too. _Do you even know what love really is?_

_Maybe, maybe not_, she would say.

But she did know quite a few things.

She adored Jess's warm brown eyes, crooked grins, and the light smattering of cute freckles on his face. She liked his terrible handwriting and even worse singing voice, and how he could only swim if he dog-paddled. Even when he was at his sulkiest and moodiest, she wanted his company above all others. No one made her laugh like he did, either. And each and every time he hugged her, or kissed her or held her hand… when he told her "I love you" … her heart would soar.

He was, without a doubt, her Most Important Person in the World. Leslie thought he was beautiful. She would never tell him so to his face, of course. It would just embarrass him.

_Jeez, you're not supposed to call guys beautiful! _he would probably say.

But she still thought it every single day.

Because Jesse Oliver Aarons Jr. _was_ beautiful. He was, and no one and no thing would ever convince her otherwise. He made her feel special. He made her feel complete, whole. He had saved her...

And he was her best friend, her King, _her Jess_. She did not know what she would do without him.

If that wasn't love, what was?

Right then and there, Leslie promised herself she would tell Jess she loved him at least three or four times that day. He made her feel good, and she enjoyed making him feel good too. Bringing a grin to his face always made her day.

She skipped into the kitchen, where P.T. was patiently waiting. She fed her starving pooch and then tended to her own gurgling gut.

"Why, yes, I do dig 'em," she proclaimed, as she poured a bowl full of Honey Smacks.

No milk, though. Maybe it was a little weird, but she never had liked her cereal swimming in milk. She ate it dry, and always had. Even Jess, used to her unique habits, had been taken aback by this preference.

"_But... wouldn't you get thirsty?" he had once asked._

_She had waved a cup full of milk at him. "Nope. This stuff usually keeps that from happening."_

_And, Jess being Jess, had laughed, and then almost choked on his own food._

After finishing her breakfast, and swallowing a piece of toast whole because she was still hungry, Leslie charged back up the mountain range of stairs. She ducked into the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and then dove into her closet.

She had quickly noticed it was another wet and dreary day outside. That meant she needed an extra-colorful outfit to make up for the lack of sunshine. She had worn yellow yesterday, so today maybe the purple and pink striped shirt, the long sleeved one, the blue vest, and her new burgundy pants…

As she searched for a suitably bright ensemble, she came across The Monstrosity itself.

The brown dress hung despondently from a bent hanger, ugly and drab and oh so boring. Her aunt had given it to her for her birthday last year. Leslie had only worn it once, just to be nice, and had promptly banished it to the furthest reaches of the Realm of Cluttered Closet.

It really was a horrible dress, she thought. She was beginning to think it had been some sort of colossal joke on the part of her parents and aunt. Really, who in their right mind would force a child to wear something so terrible?

But wait... She pursed her lips. Hmm… Maybe a few snips here, a button or a badge there, some hand-stitching along the hem... With a little bit of work, the dress could turn out to be somewhat presentable.

She blamed Jess for making her even consider fixing The Monstrosity. He had lost their bet, but Leslie knew he probably would have signed up for the art show anyway. If she had a habit of eating dry cereal, he had a habit of doing things, even uncomfortable, nerve-wracking things, on the small chance he might make her happy.

She wished he would do those things—especially when it came to his art, because he was so, so talented—because _he wanted to_, not just because he wanted to see her smile.

But it was still pretty sweet of him to be so selflessly thoughtful.

So maybe she would wear The Monstrosity after all. Jess would get a kick out of it, and his glee alone would be worth having a bad case of the ugly.

Though surely he wouldn't mind if she spruced it up just a little bit.

So for the first time in ages, Leslie dragged the brown dress out of its prison and laid it on her work desk. When she had a chance, she planned to start working on it. Who knew? Maybe it would turn out to be a fun project.

Her imagination was already itching. The lovely feeling gave a healthy dose of sunshine to her blossoming good mood.

"Round, round, get around, I get around,"she hummed, pulling on her clothes and taming her bedraggled hair. "Yeah, get around… Whooo hooo hooo…"

The rest of the old tune followed suit, as she danced a brief jig across the bedroom floor. She was ahead of schedule, no thanks to P.T., so she flung herself into an easy chair and read a couple of chapters from _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_.

She had read the book at least twelve times—all too obvious by the wear and tear her copy had picked up over the years—but she still loved visiting the world of Narnia. Before Terabithia, before Jess, she had felt more at home there than anywhere else. It was no longer her kingdom, but it still called to her sometimes, and she could never resist the urge to be swept up once more in the promise of fantastic lands just beyond the wardrobe.

The wonder of it all… It just felt so, so… _right_.

_Magic, adventure, and prophecy… What's not to love? _she thought, smiling.

She had even turned Jess and May Belle into dedicated Narnia fans. Jess now had his own copy of the series, a cheap set he had picked up at a used book sale. He shared them with his sister, and they often read them together. She and the pair were already saving up some money, too, so they could go see _Prince Caspian_ in theatersnext month.

They were all looking forward to the trip. Especially May Belle, who had plans to buy herself a large tub of buttery popcorn, a giant Crunch Bar, and a Big Gulp drink.

She already felt sorry for Jess and Joyce Ann. There was no way May Belle would settle down later after gorging herself on the likes of all that food!

Edmund had just wandered into Narnia for the first time, and met the White Witch, when Leslie chanced a look at her wristwatch.

Oh! It was 6:50. Time to go!

Leslie closed _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_, not bothering to mark her spot. She was pretty good at remembering exactly where she left off. She just stuck the book into her backpack, nabbed her raincoat, and raced down the stairs.

"I'm leaving!" she shouted. "Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad!"

Her parents mumbled something that might have been a goodbye. She thought she heard an "I love you" somewhere in the unintelligible babble, too. She bit her lip, trying not to laugh.

Yep! It was a very, very bad case of the writing bug!

She tugged on her rain boots at the door and walked out onto the porch. A heavy drizzle tumbled from the heavens, soaking the world in a fine film of mist. It was cool and breezy, close to freezing, and Leslie shivered. "Ooosh!" She pulled her raincoat closer.

She looked around and realized the porch was empty. Jess and May Belle, who were usually waiting on her, were nowhere in sight.

Leslie was not too worried, though. Jess had his morning chores to take care of, and May Belle tended to lollygag. She had a feeling they would show their faces sooner or later.

And, sure enough, barely a minute had ticked away before she saw them tramp through the muck for her house. They were huddled under Jess's battered umbrella, their hoods up and pant legs spattered with mud.

Not for the first time, Leslie noticed how tall Jess was getting. He towered over May Belle, and after a year of back-and-forth combat for the title of Tallest, he now had two inches on her as well. His growth spurt showed no signs of slowing down, either.

_Gosh! I'm going to be such a shrimp compared to him!_

It was not too horrible a thought. Leslie was beginning to like the idea of fitting all snug under Jess's arm. Besides, even with those longer legs of his, she knew she could still beat him in a race.

Her amused thoughts evaporated the second she saw his face.

The dark circles under his eyes were even worse than they had been yesterday. He was like a big raccoon, but it was not nearly as funny as it should have been. Jess was actually _drooping_, shambling more than walking, and other than his flushed cheeks, he was as pale as a sheet.

He looked terrible times ten. Leslie was reminded of a few months ago, when Jess had been so sick he had missed a whole week of school. A high fever had knocked him for a loop, draining his energy and washing away all his color… except for in his cheeks. Those had been a burnt, nasty sort of red.

Just like now.

Her gut twisted. "Jess…" she said, as he and his sister stepped up onto the porch.

"Hmm… Mornin', Les," he mumbled. His voice was all crackly, almost fuzzy. "Sorry 'm late. I kinda overslept."

"Overslept?" If she had not been worried before, she was now. "But, Jess, you never oversleep!" She managed a chuckle. "That's my job, remember?"

He did not laugh with her. He just shrugged, yawning. "There's a first time for everything," he said.

"I guess so, but…" She touched his arm. Was she just imagining it, or was he shaking? "Jess, are you sick?"

"Huh? Nah. I'm fine."

"Nuh-uh!" blurted out May Belle. "He was up all night drawing!"

"May Belle…" groaned Jess.

Leslie frowned. "You were up all night?" she said.

He hesitated, and she could tell he was worrying the inside of his cheek, but he finally nodded. "Yeah… But, really, it's not a big deal. I'm fine."

"He had a bad dream again," said May Belle.

She had been afraid of that. "Oh. Are you okay, Jess?"

"I said I was, didn't I?" he grumbled, glowering at them both. "And I did not have a bad dream."

May Belle huffed. "You did too! I heard you!" The little girl looked up at Leslie, her jaw jutted out stubbornly. "He was moaning forever and ever, and then he woke up, and he was crying."

_What?!_ Her gut twisted again. "Gosh, Jess, I'm so… Was it that bad?" she said. "It… It wasn't one of _those_, was it?"

He drew in a tight breath. "_No_. And I was _not _crying," he growled.

"It sounded like you were," said May Belle.

"Yeah, well, I wasn't." His words were very, very clipped.

Leslie tried to look Jess in the eye. But for some reason, he kept avoiding her gaze. "Jess…"

"I told you, I'm fine. End of story."

"Jesse," she said, feeling both irritated and concerned enough to use his full name. She hardly ever did. He was just being so stupid right now! "You are not fine. It's obvious you're not. C'mon, talk to us."

And then, all of a sudden, he was glaring at her. He seemed more upset than angry, but the dark look etched across his flushed face was still horribly startling. She nearly flinched.

"Okay, fine. You really wanna know?" snarled Jess. "I had that weird dream again and it freaked me out. So I drew all night 'cause I didn't want to go back to sleep. There, I told you. Happy now?"

His nasty tone hurt her, more than a little, but Leslie refused to let it crush her. "No, I'm not," she said. "And you don't have to bite my head off, you know."

"Yeah, Jess!" snapped May Belle.

Jess blinked. It was a long, sleepy sort of reaction, as if he were just waking up from a long nap. Realization flooded his face. A whoosh of air escaped him and his burnt cheeks took on an even rosier hue.

"S-Sorry," he said, staring down at his secondhand sneakers. "I didn't mean to… Gosh, I'm sorry. 'M just… 'M just real tired, I guess."

Leslie crossed her arms. "I can tell."

He winced, though she really hadn't meant to be so snippy. "I'm so, so sorry," he repeated, almost desperately. "That was… I mean, I was being a real… I'm sorry."

"Jess, look, it's… It's all right," she sighed. "Don't worry about it."

"O-Okay…" he said.

But she could tell—just by the crumpled look on his face—that he was not convinced.

An awkward hush fell over them. Even May Belle was quiet. Without uttering a single word, they piled under the umbrella and embarked on the journey down the rutted road. Leslie could sense Jess stealing looks at her, and at May Belle too, but he was as silent as the grave.

The bus pulled up just as they arrived at the little bench. Leslie watched Jess and May Belle go first. He held the little girl's hand so she wouldn't slip on the slick steps. She almost followed them when Jess's hand, darting forward, nearly smacked her in her face.

"Jeez… S-Sorry," he said. His eyes were locked on his shoes again. "Um…" He held out his hand again.

_Want some help? _was the unspoken but clear question.

_Oh, Jess… _Leslie did not hesitate. She took it and gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. _It's okay, really._

She thought she saw a relieved smile ghost across his too-pale face, as he helped her climb into the bus, but there was no time to be sure. Mr. Kenny was telling them to hurry and take a seat. Rather than risk a lecture on wasting time, they pushed down the aisle for an empty seat.

They plopped down in one close to May Belle and Alexandra. Jess shoved the dripping umbrella beneath his feet and dug around in his backpack. He pulled out his sketchbook.

"Um… Leslie?"

"Yeah?"

"You, um…" His fingers drummed against the worn cover. "You wanna see what I drew?" he said.

"You mean what you did last night?"

He nodded.

"Sure." She grinned at him. "Don't I always?"

Aha! She was sure she had seen a tiny smile that time!

Jess handed her the sketchbook.

Leslie leafed through the pages of the folio. As she did, she lingered on some of his older drawings. There was always something new to see when it came to Jess's work. But she soon moved along to the latest additions to his portable gallery.

As always, she marveled at the talent blossoming across the page. Even with the muggy, edgy state of mind he must have been trapped in last night, Jess had crafted wonders. There was a castle on a hilltop, a fortress of yesteryear, a rough sketch of a tree-house nearly hidden by trees. She caught sight of a little girl, too, her crown lopsided, skipping through a field of flowers. A violet bird and a tall blond woman were by her side. Oh, and there was the Fever Bird they had talked about last week. Its flaming tail whipped in a silent wind, a trail of ember-like feathers loosed and trailing in the creature's wake.

Goodness. His talent sang from the pages. His creations commanded more than a hint of life. They absolutely _breathed_.

And, no, she was not biased. Jess was just _that _good.

She told him so too. Leslie did not think he heard it nearly enough.

"Really?" he said, his ensuing blush lending him a bit more color. "Oh. Well, uh… Thanks. I thought they were all pretty awful."

"They're not," she said firmly. She prayed the sincerity got through his thick skull. "They're great."

"You think so?"

"Uh-huh. I wouldn't lie to you."

"I know. You never have."

The absolute trust in his voice made her blush too.

Leslie continued to peer through the drawings. Part of her was still worried. He really must have been up all night, to have done all this in one go. That was definitely not healthy. The other half was impressed and proud and enchanted with Jess's work, and it was this side she chose to indulge.

Until she came across one of the last sketches from the Sleepless Night, that is.

It was of a creature she had never seen before. It looked almost like a gryphon or a hippogriff. It certainly had the head of an eagle and talon-like forelegs. But that was where the similarities ended. The rest of its body was reptilian, complete with a spiked back, scaled haunches, and a long, pointed tail. Even stranger were the horns jutting from its feathery head. Two horns curved backwards from the crest of its skull. A third horn shot out from its forehead, like some mutated or diseased rhino—because those horns were not spiraled like that of a unicorn's, but were thick and ugly looking. Its yellow eyes were narrow, and its beak gave it a perpetual smirk.

Leslie did not know if she liked it or not.

"Jess…" she said.

"Hmm…" he said, yawning. He lifted his head from the back of the seat. "What?"

Leslie pointed at the creature. "What the heck is this thing?"

"Huh?" Jess looked at the drawing. His brow furrowed and he shrugged. "Oh, that. I dunno."

"You don't know?" she said, fighting back a laugh. "How can you not know? You drew it, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah, but it's not like I gave it a name or anything."

"Then let's give it one!"

He shrugged again. "If you want to. I don't care."

"But why…" Leslie sensed something thumping at the inside of her brain. Her mother said it was Women's Intuition. Jess would probably call it Spider-Sense. Either way, the tingling got her attention. She sighed. "Jess, what aren't you telling me?"

Jess grumbled, and she was afraid he would push her away again. But he clasped his hands, instead, and looked at her.

"That monster…" he said slowly. "I think… I think it's one of the things in my dream."

She did not even have to ask. She knew which dream he was talking about. "You only think it is?"

"Uh-huh. I mean, it's always really dark and stuff. It was hard to see. I kind of filled in some of the gaps and stuff. But I'm pretty sure that's what it sort of looks like."

"And you decided to draw what you thought you saw."

"Yeah. When I woke up, it just itched at me, you know?"

Leslie nodded. "I've had stories do that to me. You drew it to get it out of your system, right?"

"Uh-huh. I… I guess so."

She frowned as she gazed at the horned creature again. "Well, no wonder it freaked you out. This guy looks sinister."

"It didn't scare me," said Jess. She _looked_ at him, and he flushed. "I swear, Les, that thing didn't scare me."

"Okay, I believe you," she said gently. And she did. "But if this thing didn't scare you, what did?"

_Talk to me, Jess, please._

"It's hard to explain."

"I'm listening."

"It's just…" He gnawed his bottom lip, staring at the backside of the seat in front of them. "Well, like I said, it's not the horned guy that bugged me. It wasn't even that shadow thing in the corner, not really. I mean, they were creepy, but…"

"Yeah?"

"It was being there with them. You know, in that cave or shack, or whatever. I don't know why. I was just scared. Like I was afraid something bad was going to happen, or something. I don't know. I just had this pit in the middle of my stomach, and I really didn't want to be in there with those things. I don't know…"

He suddenly swore, staggering Leslie. Jess never swore. Or, at least, he hardly ever did. Hearing him curse now was… It wasn't totally shocking—he was obviously upset, she didn't need Women's Intuition or Spider-Sense to know that—but it was still a sign of just how out of sorts he was.

"Lord!" he huffed, sounding miserable. "It sounds dumb, freaking out over something like that! It's so stupid!"

She grabbed his arm and held it close to her, leaning her head on his shoulder. "No, it's not. If it's bothering you, it's not stupid."

He grumbled something unintelligible, but she still felt some of the tension ease out of his body. "It's probably because of all this rain," said Jess quietly. He laid his head against hers, his warm cheek pressed into her hair.

"Yeah, probably," she said.

Leslie could remember a time, not so long ago, when she had loved the rain. She had always enjoyed running around in it, wild and free, stamping around in the mud or surfing across lake-sized puddles. It was an adventure just waiting to happen.

She still enjoyed a good rain shower, but she had come to dread the arrival of thunder bumpers. Bad storms always made Jess uneasy. More often than not, the sounds of howling wind and pounding rain in the dead of night ended up giving him nightmares.

And she hated it. It hurt so badly, knowing he suffered. She wished she could chase away the bad dreams for good, or at least do more to help him. Hugging him after they had wrecked his night just never seemed enough.

A few moments of silence (thankfully of the peaceful kind) passed between them. Leslie continued to hold tight to his arm.

"Are you going to be okay?" she finally asked.

Jess mumbled sleepily. "Mm-mm…"

"You sure?"

"Mm-mm…"

Leslie drew in a breath and exhaled slowly. _Now, now, now_, her heart cried, and she listened. She believed he needed to hear it.

"I love you, Jess," she said.

He did not say anything in reply at first. Had he even heard her? Was he ignoring her, or had he fallen asleep? But then he grabbed one of her hands and threaded their fingers together.

"I love you too," he said. She could hear the smile in his voice.

They leaned back a little, sharing a warm look. They kissed a moment later. It was a short kiss, but a very, very sweet one.

And May Belle, peering over the edge of her seat, saw it. The little girl squealed. "See, see!" she shouted. "They did it on the lips! I told you they would! You owe me five dollars, Alexandra!"

Alexandra rolled her eyes.

Jess sputtered, probably a little embarrassed at having been caught in a PDA, but he soon burst out cackling like a loon. "Thanks for busting my eardrums, May Belle," he said, choking with laughter.

Leslie giggled too. A weight slid off her shoulders, as she delighted in the sunny gleam in Jess's face and eyes.

Maybe it would be a good day after all.

OoOoOoO

Why had she ever thought such a thing? _I just jinxed myself! _she thought.

It had most definitely not been a good day, not even close. The few moments on the bus had been a mere fluke. A false hope!

Because after that, everything else swiftly spiraled out of control.

Jess had survived two periods in relatively good spirits. He was pretty droopy, and his attention wandered ever so often, but he smiled. His eyes were still warm, and he made a joke or two. He even answered a few questions in English.

But two days of little sleep caught up with him soon enough, and he came crashing down in Social Studies.

He fell asleep.

Leslie did not quite know when he did. She had been trying to keep an eye on him, just in case he did nod off. One Chapter Review question answered and then… BAM! She glanced up from her paper and saw him snoring at his desk, his face burrowed into World War II.

She never had a chance to nudge him awake, either. Riley the Witch seemed to have a Spider Sense of her own, and she pounced on the defenseless Jess within seconds.

"Mr. Aarons!" she barked.

Jess jolted as if he had been burned, nearly knocking his book off desk. "H-Huh?" he said.

Ms. Riley's eyes narrowed. "You do realize this is not Kindergarten, don't you, Mr. Aarons?" she said.

He nodded, slumping.

"Then why have you decided to have naptime in my class?"

"Sorry, ma'am," he said. He scrubbed at his eyes and tried to sit up straight. His burnt cheeks looked even worse than before. "I just… It won't happen again."

"It had better not," said Ms. Riley coolly. "If I catch you sleeping again, I will throw you in detention. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," mumbled Jess.

Ms. Riley gave a prim nod. She returned to grading papers.

So she completely missed Scott Hoager—smelling blood in the water—as he leaned over to poke Jess in the shoulder.

"What's the matter, Aarons?" he sneered. "Does the princess need a kiss to wake her up?"

Leslie wasted no time in rising to Jess's defense. "Leave him alone, Scott," she said.

"Why don't you just shut up, Burke?" said the Squoger.

Jess twisted around in his seat, his fists clenched. "Why don't you shut up, Hoager?" he growled.

"Why don't you make me, princess?"

Leslie thought the two boys might have come to blows if it had not been for the sudden clanging of the tornado-siren. It was the drill they had been promised earlier in the morning. The class snagged their Social Studies books and trumped outside, lining up against the wall and taking a seat.

Hoager, of course, made it a point to shove Jess as he left the classroom.

They ended up sitting on their butts, books resting on their heads, for the rest of the class period. Crisis averted, but Jess's exhaustion—and the bad mood it fed—was not so easily fixed.

He was short-tempered for the rest of the afternoon. He was surly and rude to everyone, even her.

"Keep your stupid optimism to yourself!" he once snarled at her, when she tried cheering him up. "Believe it or not, it gets real annoying sometimes!"

He then proceeded to ignore her for the rest of the period. Leslie had been too stunned and hurt to care.

It was much the same for the rest of the school day. He was caught sleeping again, this time in Math class, and failed the pop quiz. He later grumbled and complained, both about the test and the least little thing that crossed his mind. He swore during P.E. He slammed his locker each time he visited it, and scowled nastily at her when she dared smile at him.

And unlike that morning, he did not once apologize for his ugly behavior. She was almost glad when he told her he couldn't come over because he hadn't done his chores that morning. She did not know how much longer she could deal with his attitude.

It was still disappointing when he did not call her later.

Angry and upset, nearly enough to make her feel sick, Leslie found P.T. a most welcome (and comforting) sleeping buddy that night.

OoOoOoO

The next day was even worse.

Leslie had known it would be a rough one before it even began. A storm had blown through Lark Creek the night before. Thunder and wind and rain had rattled the walls of her bedroom, forks of lightning painting the sky with flashes of white heat. She could just imagine Jess, in the clutches of another nightmare, tossing and turning in his bed.

Her guess was proven correct the moment she saw Jess. He and May Belle were late again. Dark bands still taking up residence under his eyes, he looked half-asleep on his shambling feet. He barely had it in him to mumble a foggy "Good morning, Leslie."

And that was perhaps the longest sentence she heard him utter all day.

Jess was not rude on Wednesday. He was not snappish or short-tempered, or even the least bit grumpy. He was just…

_Back in his shell_, Leslie thought more than once.

Jess was quiet, as quiet as she had ever known him to be. He seemed to have trouble looking her in the eye, and he did not reply to any of her notes. When he did talk, he badly stuttered or gave monosyllabic responses, and then ignored her and everything else—if he answered her at all.

He did not smile, did not laugh. He did not draw. He slumped wherever he went, head hanging low. Not even Miss Edmunds and Music Class brought a sparkle to his eyes.

Worse, she saw him flinch more than once. Not just because of the rumbling thunder, either. The least little sound made him jerk. He even started when she tried to hold his hand.

Leslie's earlier irritation with him immediately gave way to concern. He may have been ugly yesterday, but at least then he had been honest with her. Now he was in hiding. He had retreated into himself and was letting no one else in.

She refused to let that happen. She knew she had to break Jess out of his funk, and sooner rather than later.

But how could she help him if he would not let her? He was not talking to her.

Leslie could not understand why he was pushing her away. They were usually so open with each other… It was probably because he did not want to worry her, she thought.

Which was stupid of him. Darn it, she was already worried! How could she not be, seeing him so miserable and withdrawn?

And if this was about manly pride or something, that was dumb too. Being upset about a creepy nightmare was nothing to be ashamed of.

Well. It didn't matter if he speaking to her or not. Jess was hurting, and that meant she had to find a way to lift his spirits. She just had to!

Ignoring her Math (a very easy thing to do, really), she glared at the window across from her. Rain smacked against the smeared panes. It was just a light shower, but it had not let up since the wee hours of the morning.

_You're really not giving me a good reason to keep liking you, you know_, she informed the wet weather.

And it had rained so much lately, too! Three days straight, and with no end in sight. It was as if someone had cast a spell on Lark Creek, just to mess with them and—

Leslie drew in a sudden breath. Wait a minute… Wait a minute! A spell…?

She smiled.

OoOoOoO

**Author's Note: Hopping Horny-Toads, Batman! Foreshadowing, filmography trivia, and BTT Easter eggs ahoy! There is quite a few in there.**

**Again, I must give credit where credit is due. I'm sure you noticed the little asterisk at the top, next to the "Court Jester" description. That is straight from the novel. Jess gives Leslie the loveable P.T. for Christmas, and he quickly proves to be a very silly puppy. Leslie says they should probably make him the court jester. Thus P.T. in **_**A Place for Us **_**has two job descriptions.**

**Leslie also happens to have a few quirks of mine. Since I was a kid, I have always eaten my cereal dry. My milk belonged in a glass. My favorite band as a kid was also the Beach Boys.**

**Because they are awesome.**

**And so are Honey Smacks. **

**I should also probably explain my decision to make Leslie (and Jess) 13. **

**In the novel, they are clearly in the 5****th**** Grade, and so are 10 or so. The chapter name for the big race in the film is the same as the novel, too: "The Fastest Kid in the Fifth Grade." I have also heard Jess's birthday cake has 11 candles in the film, though I never counted them myself. **

**That being said, both commentaries for the film suggest the film takes place in the 6****th**** Grade. Janice is a seventh-grader in the novel, but she is clearly described as an eighth-grader in the film. I decided to go with this idea, so as to fit the slightly older casting of Josh and AnnaSophia as our Dynamic Duo. **

**So here is the timeline (hopefully this one fits better than the last) for this fan fic: The kids met in 2006. I chose 2006, because this is when the BTT crew started filming. Both Jess and Leslie were 11 and just starting the 6****th**** Grade. Jess turned 12 sometime in September. Leslie turned 12 sometime in November—her birth month in the novel. The tragic accident took place just after Easter of 2007. Cue time-travel/miracle, and Jess saves Leslie. Flash forward a year, to 2008. The kids are now at the tail-end of their 7****th**** Grade year.**

**May Belle, by the by, is 7 and in the 2****nd**** Grade.**

**Hope that explains a bit. **

**Anyway, thank you for reading. And a big thanks goes out Amber Icefire, Hofstadter'sLaw, and richard kayser. Thank you so much for your reviews! All your support means so much! **

**Until next time, take care! And God bless you all!**

**T.O. Cole**


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